THE 
SON  OF  ROYAL  LANGBRITH 


THE    SON    OF 
ROYAL    LANGBRITH 


A  NOVEL 


BY 

W.    D.    HO  WELLS 

AUTHOR  OF 

"  QUESTIONABLE  SHAPES  "  "  LETTERS  HOME  " 

"  LITERARY  FRIENDS  AND  ACQUAINTANCE" 

"THEIR  SILVER  WEDDING  JOURNEY" 

ETC.     ETC. 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS   PUBLISHERS 
1905 


•; 


Copyright   1903,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

All  rights  reserved. 
Published  October.  1904. 


VERSITY 
.^^r  ^ 

THE 

SON  OF  ROYAL  LANGBRITH 


"  WE'RE  neither  of  us  young  people,  I  know,  and 
I  can  very  well  believe  that  you  had  not  thought 
of  marrying  again.  I  can  account  for  your  surprise 
at  my  offer,  even  your  disgust—  Dr.  Anther 
hesitated. 

"Oh  no!"  Mrs.  Langbrith  protested. 

"But  I  can't  see  why  it  should  be  'terrible,'  as 
you  call  it.  If  you  had  asked  me  simply  to  take 
*  no '  for  an  answer,  I  could  have  taken  it.  Or  taken 
it  better." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  wounded  air,  and  she 
said,  "I  didn't  mean  'terrible'  in  that  way.  I  was 
only  thinking  of  it  for  myself,  or  not  so  much  my 
self  as  —  some  one."  She  glanced  at  him,  where, 
tenderly  indignant  with  her,  he  stood  by  the  window, 
quite  across  the  room,  and  she  seemed  to  wish  to 
say  more,  but  let  her  eyes  drop  without  saying 
more. 

He  was  silent,  too,  for  a  time  which  he  allowed  to 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

prolong  itself  in  the  apparent  expectation  that  she 
would  break  their  silence.  But  he  had  to  speak 
first.  "I  don't  like  mysteries.  I  can  forget — or 
ignore — any  sense  of  'terrible'  you  had  in  mind, 
if  you  will  tell  me  one  thing.  Do  you  ask  me  now 
to  take  simply  'no*  for  an  answer?" 

"Oh  no!"  The  words  were  as  if  surprised  from 
her,  and  she  made  with  her  catching  breath  as  if  she 
would  have  caught  them  back. 

He  came  quickly  across  the  room  to  her.  "  What 
is  it,  Amelia?" 

"  I  can't  tell  you,"  she  shuddered  out,  and  she  re 
coiled,  pulling  herself  up,  as  if  she  wished  to  escape 
but  felt  an  impenetrable  hinderance  at  her  back. 
In  the  action,  she  showed  taller  than  she  was,  and 
more  girlishly  slender.  At  forty,  after  her  wife- 
hood  of  three  years  and  her  widowhood  of  nineteen 
years,  the  inextinguishable  innocence  of  girlhood, 
which  keeps  itself  through  all  the  experiences  of  a 
good  woman's  life,  was  pathetic  in  her  appealing 
eyes;  and  the  mourning,  subdued  to  the  paler 
shades  of  purple,  which  she  permanently  wore, 
would  have  made  a  stranger  think  of  an  orphan 
rather  than  a  widow  in  her  presence. 

Anther's  burly  frame  arrested  itself  at  her  recoil. 
His  florid  face,  clean  shaven  at  a  time  when  nearly 
all  men  wore  beards,  was  roughed  to  a  sort  of  com 
munity  of  tint  with  his  brown  overcoat  by  the 
weather  of  many  winters'  and  summers'  driving  in 
his  country  practice.  His  iron -gray  hair,  worn 
longer  than  the  fashion  was  in  towns,  fell  down 
his  temples  and  neck  from  under  his  soft  hat.  He 

2 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  on  his  driving  -  gloves,  and  he  had  his  whip 
in  one  hand.  He  had  followed  Mrs.  Langbrith  in 
doors  in  that  figure  from  the  gate,  where  his  unkempt 
old  horse  stood  with  his  mud  -  spattered  buggy, 
to  pursue  the  question  which  she  tried  rather 
than  wished  to  shun,  and  he  did  not  know  that 
he  had  not  uncovered.  At  the  pathos  in  her  eyes 
and  in  her  cheeks,  which  had  the  vertical  hollows 
showing  oftener  in  youth  than  in  later  life,  the  harsh 
ness  of  gathered  will  went  out  of  his  face.  "  I  know 
what  you  mean,"  he  said ;  and  at  his  words  the  tears 
began  to  drip  down  her  face  without  the  movement 
of  any  muscle  in  it,  as  if  a  habit  of  self-control  which 
enabled  her  to  command  the  inward  effects  of  emo 
tion  had  not  been  able  to  extend  itself  to  its  displays. 
"Poor  thing!"  he  pitied  her.  "Must  you  always 
have  a  tyrant?" 

"He  isn't  a  tyrant,"  she  said. 

"Oh  yes,  he  is!  I  know  the  type.  I  dare  say 
he  doesn't  hit  you,  but  he  terrorizes  you." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  did  not  speak.  In  her  reticence, 
even  her  tears  stopped. 

"You  tempt  him  to  bully  you.  Lord  bless  me, 
you  tempt  me  !  But  I  won't;  no,  I  won't.  Amelia, 
why,  in  Heaven's  name,  should  he  object?  He  has 
his  own  interests,  quite  apart  from  yours;  his  own 
world,  which  you  couldn't  enter  if  he  would  let  you. 
A  fellow  in  his  junior  year  at  college  is  as  remote 
from  his  mother  in  everything  as  if  he  were  in  an 
other  planet!" 

"We  write  to  each  other  every  Sunday,"  she 
urged,  diffidently. 

3 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  try  to  keep  along  with  him ; 
that's  your  nature;  but  I  know  that  he  cowed  you 
before  he  left  home,  and  I  know  that  he  cows  you 
still.  I  could  read  your  correspondence — the  spirit 
— without  seeing  it.  He  isn't  to  blame.  You've 
let  him  walk  over  you  till  he  thinks  there  is  no  other 
path  to  manhood.  Remember,  I  don't  say  Jim  is  a 
bad  fellow.  He  is  a  very  good  fellow — considering. ' ' 

The  doctor  went  to  the  window  and  stooped  to  look 
out  at  his  horse,  which  remained  as  he  had  left  it, 
only  more  patiently  sunken  in  a  permanence  ex 
pressed  by  the  collapsing  of  its  hind  quarters  into 
a  comfortable  droop,  and  a  dreamy  dejection  of  its 
large  head.  In  the  mean  time,  Mrs.  Langbrith  had 
sat  down  in  a  chair  which  she  seemed  to  think  had 
offered  itself  to  her,  and  when  the  doctor  came  back 
he  asked,  "May  I  sit  down?" 

"Why,  of  course!     I'm  ashamed — " 

"No,  no!  Don't  say  that!  Don't  say  anything 
like  that!" 

In  the  act  of  sitting  down,  he  realized  that  he  had 
his  hat  on.  He  took  it  off  and  put  it  on  the  floor 
near  his  feet,  where  it  toppled  into  a  soft  heap.  His 
hair  had  partly  lifted  with  it,  and  its  disorder  on  his 
crown  somewhat  concealed  its  thinness.  "  I  want  to 
talk  this  matter  over  sensibly.  We  are  not  two 
young  things  that  we  need  be  scared  at  our  own 
feelings,  or  each  other's.  I  suppose  I  may  say  we 
both  knew  it  was  coming  to  something  like  this?" 

She  might  not  have  let  him  say  so  for  her,  but  in 
her  silence  he  went  on  to  say  so  for  himself. 

"/  knew  it  was  coming,  anyway,  and  I've  known 

4 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

it  for  a  good  while.  I  have  liked  you  ever  since  I 
came  to  Saxmills" — she  trembled  and  colored  a  lit 
tle — "  but  I  wouldn't  be  saying  what  I  am  saying  to 
you,  if  I  had  cared  for  you  before  Langbrith  died  as 
I  care  for  you  now.  That  would  be,  to  my  thinking, 
rather  loathsome.  I  should  despise  myself  for  it; 
I  should  despise  you;  I  couldn't  help  it.  But  we 
are  both  fairly  outside  of  that.  I  didn't  begin  to 
realize  how  it  was  with  me  till  about  a  year  ago, 
and  I  don't  suppose  that  you— 

Mrs.  Langbrith  shifted  her  position  slightly,  but 
he  did  not  notice,  and  he  began  again. 

"  So  I  feel  that  I  can  offer  you  a  clean  hand.  I'm 
six  years  older  than  you  are,  which  makes  it  just 
about  right;  and  I'm  not  so  poor  that  I  need  seem 
to  be  after  your — thirds.  I've  got  a  good  practice, 
and  I  don't  intend  to  take  life  so  hard  hereafter.  I 
could  give  you  as  pleasant  a  home— 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  think  of  leaving  this!"  she  broke 
out,  helplessly. 

Anther  allowed  himself  to  smile.  "Well,  well, 
there's  no  hurry.  But  if  Jim  marries — " 

"  I  should  live  with  him." 

"  I'm  imagining  that  you  would  live  with  me." 

"You  mustn't." 

"I'm  merely  imagining;  I'm  not  trying  to  com 
mit  you  to  anything,  or  to  overrule  you  at  all.  My 
idea  is,  that  there's  been  enough  of  that  in  your  life. 
I  want  you  to  overrule  me,  and  if  you  don't  fancy 
settling  down  immediately,  and  would  like  a  year 
or  two  in  Europe  first,  I  could  freshen  my  science 
up  in  Vienna  or  Paris,  and  come  back  all  the  better 

5 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

prepared  to  keep  on  in  my  practice  here ;  or  I  could 
give  up  my  practice  altogether." 

"You  oughtn't  to  do  that." 

"  No,  I  oughtn't.  But  all  this  is  neither  here  nor 
there,  till  the  great  point  is  settled.  Do  you  think 
any  one  could  care  for  me  as  I  care  for  you?" 

"Why,  of  course,  Dr.  Anther?" 

"Do  you  care  for  me — that  way — now?"  He 
seemed  to  expect  evasion  or  hesitation,  even  such 
elusion  as  might  have  expressed  itself  in  material 
escape  from  him,  and,  unconsciously,  he  hitched  his 
chair  forward  as  if  to  hem  her  in. 

It  was  a  needless  precaution.  She  answered  in 
stantly,  "You  know  I  do." 

"Amelia,"  Anther  asked  solemnly,  without  chang 
ing  his  posture  or  the  slant  of  his  face  in  its  lift  tow 
ards  hers,  "have  I  put  any  pressure  on  you  to  say 
this?  Do  you  say  it  as  freely  as  if  I  hadn't  asked 
you?" 

The  absurdity  of  the  question  did  not  appear  to 
either  of  them.  She  answered,  "  I  say  it  as  freely 
as  if  it  had  never  been  asked.  I  would  have  said  it 
years  ago.  I  have  always  liked  you — that  way.  Or 
ever  since — " 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  pushed  his  hands 
forward  on  the  arms.  "Then — then — "  he  began, 
bewilderedly,  and  she  said : 

"But—" 

"Ah!"  he  broke  out,  "I  know  what  that  'but* 
means.  Why  need  there  be  any  such  'but'?  Do 
you  think  he  dislikes  me?" 

"  No,  he  likes  you ;  he  respects  you.     He  says  you 

6 


THE   SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

are  a  physician  who  would  be  famous  in  a  large 
place.  He—" 

Anther  put  the  rest  aside  with  his  hand.  "Then 
he  would  object  to  any  one?  Is  that  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Langbrith,  with  a  drop  to  spe 
cific  despair  from  her  general  hopelessness. 

"  I  don't  recognize  his  right,"  Anther  said  sharply, 
"unless  he  is  ready  to  promise  that  he  will  never 
leave  you  to  be  pushed  aside ;  turned  from  a  mother 
into  a  mother-in-law.  I  don't  recognize  his  right. 
Why  does  he  assume  such  a  right?" 

"Out  of  reverence  for  his  father's  memory." 


II 

ONE  cannot  look  on  a  widow  who  has  long  sur 
vived  her  husband  without  a  curiosity  not  easily 
put  into  terms.  The  curiosity  is  intensified  and  the 
difficulty  enhanced  if  there  are  children  to  testify 
of  a  relation  which,  in  the  absence  of  the  dead,  has 
no  other  witness.  The  man  has  passed  out  of  the 
woman's  life  as  absolutely  as  if  he  had  never  been 
there;  it  is  conceivable  that  she  herself  does  not  al 
ways  think  of  her  children  as  also  his.  Yet  they  are 
his  children,  and  there  must  be  times  when  he  holds 
her  in  mortmain  through  them,  when  he  is  still  her 
husband,  still  her  lord  and  master.  But  how  much, 
otherwise,  does  she  keep  of  that  intimate  history  of 
emotions,  experiences,  so  manifold,  so  recondite? 
Is  he  as  utterly  gone,  to  her  sense,  as  to  all  others  ? 
Or  is  he  in  some  sort  there  still,  in  her  ear,  in  her  eye, 
in  her  touch  ?  Was  it  for  the  nothing  which  it  now 
seems  that  they  were  associated  in  the  most  tre 
mendous  of  the  human  dramas,  the  drama  that  al 
lies  human  nature  with  the  creative,  the  divine  and 
the  immortal,  on  one  side,  the  bestial  and  the  per 
ishable  on  the  other?  Does  oblivion  pass  equally 
over  the  tremendous  and  the  trivial  and  blur  them 
alike  ? 

Anther  looked  at  Mrs.  Langbrith  in  a  whirl  of 

8 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

question :  question  of  himself  as  well  as  of  her.  By 
virtue  of  his  privity  to  her  past,  he  was  in  a  sort  of 
authority  over  her ;  but  it  may  have  been  because  of 
his  knowledge  that  he  almost  humbly  forbore  to 
use  his  authority. 

"Amelia,"  he  entreated  her,  "have  you  brought 
him  up  in  a  superstition  of  his  father?" 

"Oh  no!"  She  had  the  effect  of  hurrying  to 
answer  him..  "Oh,  never!" 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  anyway.  But  if  you  have  let 
him  grow  up  in  ignorance — 

"How  could  I  help  that?" 

"You  couldn't!  He  made  himself  solid,  there. 
But  the  boy's  reverence  for  his  father's  memory  is 
sacrilege— 

"I  know,"  she  tremulously  consented;  and  in  her 
admission  there  was  no  feint  of  sparing  the  dead, 
of  defending  the  name  she  bore,  or  the  man  whose 
son  she  had  borne.  She  must  have  gone  all  over 
that  ground  long  ago,  and  abandoned  it.  "  It  ought 
to  have  come  out,"  she  even  added. 

"Yes,  but  it  never  can  come  out  now,  while  any 
of  his  victims  live,"  Anther  helplessly  raged.  "I'm 
willing  to  help  keep  it  covered  up  in  his  grave  my 
self,  because  you're  one  of  them.  If  poor  Hawberk 
had  only  taken  to  drink  instead  of  opium!" 

"Yes,"  she  again  consented,  with  no  more  ap 
parent  feeling  for  the  memory  imperilled  by  the  con 
jecture  than  if  she  had  been  nowise  concerned  in  it. 

"But  you  must,  Amelia — I  hate  to  blame  you; 
I  know  how  true  you  are — you  must  have  let  the 
boy  think—" 

9 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

4 'As  a  child,  he  used  to  ask  me,  but  not  much; 
and  what  would  you  have  had  I  should  answer 
him?" 

."  Of  course,  of  course!    You  couldn't." 

"  I  used  to  wonder  if  I  could.  Once,  when  he  was 
little,  he  put  his  ringer  on  this" — she  put  her  own 
finger  on  a  scar  over  her  left  eye — "and  asked  me 
what  made  it.  I  almost  told  him." 

Anther  groaned  and  twisted  in  his  chair.  "The 
child  always  spoke  of  him,"  she  went  on  passion- 
lessly,  "  as  being  in  heaven.  I  found  out,  one  night, 
when  I  was  saying  his  prayers  with  him,  that — you 
know  how  children  get  things  mixed  up  in  their 
thoughts — he  supposed  Mr.  Langbrith  was  the  father 
in  heaven  he  was  praying  to." 

"Gracious  powers!"  Anther  broke  out. 

"I  suppose,"  she  concluded,  with  a  faint  sigh, 
"though  it's  no  comfort,  that  there  are  dark  cor 
ners  in  other  houses." 

"Plenty,"  Anther  grimly  answered,  from  the 
physician's  knowledge.  "But  not  many  as  dark 
as  in  yours,  Amelia." 

"No,"  she  passively  consented  once  more.  "As 
he  grew  up,"  she  resumed  the  thread  of  their  talk, 
without  prompting,  "he  seemed  less  and  less  curi 
ous  about  it;  and  I  let  it  go.  I  suppose  I  wanted 
to  escape  from  it,  to  forget  it." 

"I  don't  blame  you." 

"But,  doctor,"  she  pleaded  with  him  for  the  ex 
tenuation  which  she  could  not,  perhaps,  find  in  her 
self,  "  I  never  did  teach  him  by  any  word  or  act — 
unless  not  saying  anything  was  doing  it — that  his 

10 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

father  was  the  sort  of  man  he  thinks  he  was.  I 
should  have  been  afraid  that  Mr.  Langbrith  him 
self  would  not  have  liked  that.  It  would  have  been 
a  fraud  upon  the  child." 

"  I  don't  think  Langbrith  would  have  objected  to 
it  on  that  ground,"  Anther  bitterly  suggested. 

"No,  perhaps  not.  But  between  Mr.  Langbrith 
and  me  there  were  no  concealments,  and  I  felt  that 
he  would  not  have  wished  me  to  impose  upon  the 
child  expressly." 

"  Oh,  he  preferred  the  tacit  deceit,  if  it  would  serve 
his  purpose.  I'll  allow  that.  And  in  this  case  it 
seems  to  have  done  it." 

"Do  you  mean,"  she  meekly  asked,  "that  I  have 
deceived  James?" 

"No,"  said  Anther,  with  a  blurt  of  joyless  laugh 
ter.  "But  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  if  it  were 
not  too  sickeningly  near  some  wretched  superstition 
that  doesn't  believe  in  itself,  I  should  say  that  his 
father  deceived  him  through  you,  that  he  diaboli 
cally  acted  through  your  love,  and  did  the  evil 
which  we  have  got  to  face  now.  Amelia!"  he  star 
tled  her  with  the  resolution  expressed  in  his  utter 
ance  of  her  name,  "you  say  the  boy  will  object  to 
my  marrying  you.  Do  you  object  to  my  telling 
him?" 

"Telling  him?" 

"  Just  what  his  father  was!" 

"Oh,  you  mustn't!  It  would  make  him  hate 
you." 

"What  difference?" 

"I  couldn't  let  him  hate  you.  I  couldn't  bear 

ii 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

that."  The  involuntary  tears,  kept  back  in  the 
abstracter  passages  of  their  talk,  filled  her  eyes 
again,  and  trembled  above  her  cheeks. 

"  If  necessary,  he  has  got  to  know,"  Anther  went 
on,  obdurately.  "I  won't  give  you  up  on  a  mere 
apprehension  of  his  opposition." 

"Oh,  do  give  me  up!"  she  implored.  "It  would 
be  the  best  way." 

"  It  would  be  the  worst.  I  have  a  right  to  you, 
and  if  you  care  for  me,  as  you  say — " 

"i  dor 

"Then,  Heaven  help  us,  you  have  right  to  me. 
You  have  a  right  to  freedom,  to  peace,  to  rest,  to 
security;  and  you  are  going  to  have  it.  Now,  will 
you  let  it  come  to  the  question  without  his  having 
the  grounds  of  a  fair  judgment,  or  shall  we  tell  him 
what  he  ought  to  know,  and  then  do  what  we  ought 
to  do :  marry,  and  let  me  look  after  you  as  long  as  I 
live?" 

She  hesitated,  and  then  said,  with  a  sort  of  furtive 
evasion  of  the  point:  "There  is  something  that  I 
ought  to  tell  you.  You  said  that  you  would  despise 
yourself  if  you  had  cared  for  me  in  Mr.  Langbrith's 
lifetime."  She  always  spoke  of  her  husband,  dead, 
as  she  had  always  addressed  him,  living,  in  the  tra 
dition  of  her  great  juniority,  and  in  a  convention  of 
what  was  once  polite  form  from  wives  to  husbands, 
not  to  be  dropped  in  the  most  solemn,  the  most  in 
timate,  moments. 

Anther  found  nothing  grotesque  in  it,  and,  there 
fore,  nothing  peculiarly  pathetic.  "Well?"  he  ask 
ed,  impatiently  trying  for  patience. 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Well,  I  know  that  I  cared  for  you  then.  I 
couldn't  help  it.  Now  you  despise  me,  and  that 
ends  it." 

Anther  rubbed  his  hand  over  his  face;  then  he 
said,  "I  don't  believe  you,  Amelia." 

"I  did,"  she  persisted. 

"  Well,  then,  it  was  all  right.  You  couldn't  have 
had  a  wrong  thought  or  feeling,  and  the  theory  may 
go.  After  all,  I  was  applying  the  principle  in  my 
own  case,  and  trying  to  equal  myself  with  you.  If 
you  choose  to  equal  yourself  with  me  by  saying  this, 
I  must  let  you;  but  it  makes  no  difference.  You 
cared  for  me  because  I  stood  your  helper  when  there 
was  no  other  possible,  and  that  was  right.  Now, 
shall  we  tell  Jim,  or  not  ?" 

She  looked  desperately  round,  as  if  she  might  es 
cape  the  question  by  escaping  from  the  room.  As 
all  the  doors  were  shut,  she  seemed  to  abandon  the 
notion  of  flight,  and  said,  with  a  deep  sigh,  "  I  must 
see  him  first." 

Anther  caught  up  his  hat  and  put  it  on,  and  went 
out  without  any  form  of  leave-taking.  When  the 
outer  door  had  closed  upon  him,  she  stole  to  the 
window,  and,  standing  back  far  enough  not  to  be 
seen,  watched  him  heavily  tramping  down  the  brick 
walk,  with  its  borders  of  box,  to  the  white  gate 
posts,  each  under  its  elm,  budded  against  a  sky 
threatening  rain,  and  trailing  its  pendulous  spray 
in  the  wind.  He  jounced  into  his  buggy,  and  drew 
the  reins  over  his  horse,  which  had  been  standing 
unhitched,  and  drove  away.  She  turned  from  the 
window. 

13 


Ill 

EASTER  came  late  that  year,  and  the  jonquils  were 
there  before  it,  even  in  the  Mid-New  England  lati 
tude  of  Saxmills,  when  James  Langbrith  brought 
his  friend  Falk  home  with  him  for  the  brief  vacation. 
The  two  fellows  had  a  great  time,  as  they  said  to 
each  other,  among  the  village  girls;  and  perhaps 
Langbrith  evinced  his  local  superiority  more  ap 
preciably  by  his  patronage  of  them  than  by  the 
colonial  nobleness  of  the  family  mansion,  squarely 
fronting  the  main  village  street,  with  gardened 
grounds  behind  dropping  to  the  river.  He  did  not 
dispense  his  patronage  in  all  cases  without  having 
his  hand  somewhat  clawed  by  the  recipients,  but 
still  he  dispensed  it ;  and,  though  Falk  laughed  when 
Langbrith  was  scratched,  still  Langbrith  felt  that 
he  was  more  than  holding  his  own,  and  he  made  up 
for  any  defeat  he  met  outside  by  the  unquestioned 
supremacy  he  bore  within  his  mother's  house.  Her 
shyness,  out  of  keeping  with  her  age  and  stature, 
invited  the  sovereign  command  which  Langbrith 
found  it  impossible  to  refuse,  though  he  tempered 
his  tyranny  with  words  and  shows  of  affection  well 
calculated  to  convince  his  friend  of  the  perfect  in 
telligence  which  existed  between  his  mother  and 
himself.  When  he  thought  of  it,  he  gave  her  his  arm 

14 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

in  going  out  to  dinner;  and,  when  he  forgot,  he  tried 
to  make  up  by  pushing  her  chair  under  her  before 
she  sat  down.  He  was  careful  at  table  to  have  the 
conversation  first  pay  its  respects  to  some  supposed 
interest  of  hers,  and  to  return  to  that  if  it  strayed 
afterwards,  and  include  her.  He  conspicuously 
kissed  her  every  morning  when  he  came  down  to 
breakfast,  and  he  kissed  her  at  night  when  she  would 
have  escaped  to  bed  without  the  rite. 

It  was  Falk's  own  fault  if  he  did  not  conceive  from 
Langbrith's  tenderness  the  ideal  of  what  a  good 
son  should  be  in  all  points.  But,  as  the  Western 
growth  of  a  German  stock  transplanted  a  genera 
tion  before,  he  may  not  have  been  qualified  to  im 
agine  the  whole  perfection  of  Langbrith's  behavior 
from  the  examples  shown  him.  His  social  condi 
tions  in  the  past  may  even  have  been  such  that  the 
ceremonial  he  witnessed  did  not  impress  him  pleas 
antly;  but,  if  so,  he  made  no  sign  of  displeasure. 
He  held  his  peace,  and  beyond  grinning  at  Lang 
brith's  shoulders,  as  he  followed  him  out  to  the 
dining-room,  he  did  not  go.  He  seemed  to  have 
made  up  his  mind  that,  without  great  loss  of  self- 
respect,  he  could  suffer  himself  to  be  used  in  illus 
tration  of  Langbrith's  large-mindedness  with  other 
people  whom  Langbrith  wished  to  impress.  At  any 
rate,  it  had  been  a  choice  between  spending  the 
Easter  holiday  at  Cambridge,  or  coming  home  with 
Langbrith ;  and  he  was  not  sorry  that  he  had  come. 
He  was  getting  as  much  good  out  of  the  visit  as 
Langbrith. 

One  night,  when  Mrs.  Langbrith  came  timidly  into 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  library  to  tell  the  two  young  men  that  dinner 
was  ready — she  had  shifted  the  dinner-hour,  at  her 
son's  wish,  from  one  o'clock  to  seven — Langbrith 
turned  from  the  shelf  where  he  had  been  looking 
into  various  books  with  his  friend,  and  said  to  his 
mother,  in  giving  her  his  arm:  "  I  can't  understand 
why  my  father  didn't  have  a  book-plate,  unless  it 
was  to  leave  me  the  pleasure  of  getting  one  up  in 
good  shape.  I  want  you  to  design  it  for  me,  will  you, 
Falk?"  he  asked  over  his  shoulder.  Without  wait 
ing  for  the  answer,  he  went  on,  instructively,  to  his 
mother:  "You  know  the  name  was  originally  Nor 
man." 

"  I  didn't  know  that,"  she  said,  with  a  gentle  self- 
inculpation. 

"Yes,"  her  son  explained.  " I've  been  looking  it 
up.  It  was  Longuehaleine,  and  they  translated  it 
after  they  came  to  England  into  Longbreath,  or 
Langbrith,  as  we  have  it.  I  believe  I  prefer  our 
final  form.  It's  splendidly  suggestive  for  a  book 
plate,  don't  you  think,  Falk?"  By  this  time  he 
was  pushing  his  mother's  chair  under  her,  and  talk 
ing  over  her  head  to  his  friend.  "A  boat,  with  a 
full  sail,  and  a  cherub's  head  blowing  a  strong  gale 
into  it:  something  like  that." 

"  They  might  think  the  name  was  Longboat,  then," 
said  Falk. 

Mrs.  Langbrith  started. 

"Oh,  Falk  has  to  have  his  joke,"  her  son  ex 
plained,  tolerantly,  as  he  took  his  place;  "nobody 
minds  Falk.  Mother,  I  wish  you  would  give  a  din 
ner  for  him.  Why  not?  And  we  could  have  a 

16 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

dance  afterwards.     The  old  parlors  would  lend  them 
selves  to  it  handsomely.     What  do  you  say,  Falk?" 
"  Is  it  for  me  to  say  I  will  be  your  honored  guest  ?" 
"Well,  we'll  drop  that  part.     We  won't  feature 
you,  if  you  prefer  not.     Honestly,  though,  I've  been 
thinking  of  a  dinner,  mother." 

Langbrith  had  now  taken  his  place,  and  was  pois 
ing  the  carving  knife  and  fork  over  the  roast  tur 
key,  which  symbolized  in  his  mother's  simple  tra 
dition  the  extreme  of  formal  hospitality.  She  wore 
her  purple  silk  in  honor  of  it,  and  it  was  what  chiefly 
sustained  her  in  the  presence  of  the  young  men's 
evening  dress.  This  was  too  much  for  her,  perhaps, 
but  not  too  much  for  the  turkey.  The  notion  of 
the  proposed  dinner,  however,  was  something,  as 
she  conceived  it,  beyond  the  turkey's  support. 
Without  knowing  just  what  her  son  meant,  she 
cloudily  imagined  the  dinner  of  his  suggestion  to 
be  a  banquet  quite  unprecedented  in  Saxmills  so 
ciety.  Dinners  there,  except  in  a  very  few  houses, 
were  family  dinners,  year  out  and  year  in.  They 
were  sometimes  extended  to  include  outlying  kin 
dred,  cousins  and  aunts  and  uncles  who  chanced 
to  be  in  town  or  came  on  a  visit.  Very  rarely,  a 
dinner  was  made  for  some  distinguished  stranger:  a 
speaker,  who  was  going  to  address  a  political  rally 
in  the  afternoon,  or  a  lecturer,  who  was  to  be  heard 
in  the  evening  at  the  town-hall,  or  the  clerical  supply 
in  the  person  of  one  minister  or  another  who  came 
to  be  tried  for  the  vacant  pulpit  of  one  of  the 
churches.  Then,  a  few  principal  citizens  with  their 
wives  were  asked,  the  ministers  of  the  other  churches, 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  bank  president,  some  leading  merchant,  the 
magnates  of  the  law  or  medicine.  The  dinner  was 
at  one  o'clock,  and  the  young  people  were  rigidly 
excluded.  They  were  fed  either  before  or  after  it, 
or  farmed  out  among  the  neighboring  houses  till 
the  guests  were  gone.  Ordinarily,  guests  were  ask 
ed  to  tea,  which  was  high,  with  stewed  chicken,  hot 
bread,  made  dishes  and  several  kinds  of  preserves 
and  sweet  pickles,  with  many  sorts  of  cake.  The 
last  was  the  criterion  of  tasteful  and  lavish  hospi 
tality. 

Clearly,  it  was  nothing  of  all  this  that  Mrs.  Lang- 
brith's  son  had  in  mind.  After  his  first  year  in 
college,  when  he  had  been  so  homesick  that  every 
thing  seemed  perfect  under  his  mother's  roof  in  his 
vacation  visits,  he  began  to  bring  fellows  with  him. 
Then  he  began  to  make  changes.  The  dinner-hour 
was  advanced  from  mid-day  to  evening,  and  he  and 
his  friends  dressed  for  it.  He  had  still  to  carve,  for 
the  dinner  in  courses  was  really  unmanageable  and 
unimaginable  in  his  mother's  house-keeping ;  but  he 
professed  a  baronial  preference  for  carving,  and  he 
fancied  an  old-fashioned,  old -family  effect  from  it. 
The  service  was  such  as  the  frightened  inexperience 
of  the  elderly  Irish  second -girl  could  render;  under 
Langbrith's  threatening  eye,  she  succeeded  in  offer 
ing  the  dishes  at  the  left  hand,  and,  though  she 
stood  a  good  way  off  and  rather  pushed  them  at  the 
guests,  the  thing  somehow  was  done.  At  least,  the 
covered  dishes  were  no  longer  set  on  the  table,  as 
they  used  always  to  be. 

Mrs.  Langbrith  had  witnessed  the  changes  with 

18 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

trepidation  but  absolute  acquiescence  even  at  the 
first,  and  finally  with  the  submission  in  which  her 
son  held  her  in  everything.  In  the  afternoon,  when 
he  and  his  friend,  whoever  it  might  be,  put  on  their 
top-hats  and  top-coats  and  went  out  to  call  on  the 
village  girls,  who  did  not  know  enough  of  the  world 
to  offer  them  tea,  she  spent  the  interval  before  din 
ner  in  arranging  for  the  meal  with  the  faithful,  faded 
Norah.  After  dinner,  when  the  young  men  again 
put  on  their  top-hats  and  top-coats  to  call  again 
upon  the  village  girls,  whom  they  had  impressed 
with  the  correctness  of  afternoon  calls,  and  to  whom 
they  now  relented  in  compliance  with  the  village 
custom  of  evening  calls,  Mrs.  Langbrith  debated 
with  Norah  the  success  of  the  dinner,  studied  its 
errors,  and  joined  her  in  vows  for  their  avoidance. 


IV 

THE  event  which  confronted  Mrs.  Langbrith  in 
her  son's  words,  as  he  sat  behind  the  turkey  and 
plunged  the  carving -fork  into  its  steaming  and 
streaming  breast,  was  so  far  beyond  the  scope  of 
her  widened  knowledge  that  she  mutely  waited  for 
him  to  declare  it. 

"  People,"  he  went  on,  "  have  been  so  nice  to  Falk 
and  me,  that  I  think  we  ought  to  make  some  return. 
I  put  the  duty  side  first,  because  I  know  you'll  like 
that,  mother,  and  it  will  help  to  reconcile  you  to  the 
fun  of  it.  Falk  is  such  a  pagan  that  he  can't  un 
derstand,  but  it  will  be  for  his  good,  all  the  same. 
My  notion  is  to  have  a  good,  big  dinner — twelve 
or  fourteen  at  table,  and  then  a  lot  in  afterwards, 
with  supper  about  midnight.  What  do  you  say,  mo 
ther?  Don't  mind  Falk,  if  you  don't  agree  quite." 

"There  is  no  Falk,  Mrs.  Langbrith,"  the  young 
fellow  said,  with  an  intelligence  which  comforted 
her  and  emboldened  her  against  her  son. 

"  I  don't  see—  "  she  began,  and  then  she  stopped. 

" That's  right!"  her  son  encouraged  her. 

"James,"  she  said,  desperately,  "I  wouldn't 
know  how  to  do  it." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  do  it."  He  laughed  exult 
antly.  "  I  propose  to  do  it  myself.  I  will  have  the 

20 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

whole  thing  sent  up  from  Boston."  Between  her 
gasps,  he  went  on:  "All  I  have  got  to  do  is  to  write 
an  order  to  White,  the  caterer,  with  particulars  of 
quantity  and  quality,  the  date  and  the  hour,  and 
it  comes  on  the  appointed  train  with  three  men  in 
plain  clothes;  two  reappear  in  lustrous  dress-suits 
at  dinner  and  supper,  and  serve  the  things  the  other 
has  cooked  at  our  range.  I  press  the  button,  White 
does  the  rest.  He  brings  china,  cutlery,  linen — 
everything.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  hide  Jerry  in 
the  barn  and  keep  Norah  up -stairs  to  show  the 
ladies  into  the  back  chamber  to  take  off  their  things. 
You  can  put  our  own  cook  under  the  sink.  You'll 
be  astonished  at  the  ease  of  the  whole  thing." 
"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  said,  "it  will  be  easy, but—" 
"  But  would  it  be  right  ?"  her  son  tenderly  mocked. 
"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?"  he  asked  towards  his  friend. 
"In  New  England,  the  notion  of  ease  conveys  the 
sense  of  culpability.  My  mother  is  afraid  she  would 
have  a  bad  conscience.  If  she  took  all  the  work 
and  worry  on  herself,  she  would  feel  that  she  was 
paying  the  penalty  of  her  pleasure  beforehand;  if 
she  didn't,  she  would  know  that  she  must  pay  for 
it  afterwards.  Isn't  that  so,  mother?  But  now 
you  leave  it  to  me,  you  dear  old  thing."  Lang 
brith  ran  round  the  table  and  kissed  her  on  top  of 
the  head,  and  made  her  blush  like  a  girl,  as  he  pat 
ted  her  shoulder.  "Just  imagine  I  was  master, 
and  you  couldn't  help  yourself."  He  went  back 
to  his  place.  "  What  was  the  largest  dinner  you  ever 
had  in  the  old  time?" 

She  hesitated,  as  if  for  his  meaning.     "  Mr.  Lang- 

21 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

brith  once  entertained  a  company  of  six  gentlemen, 
who  came  up  here  and  talked  of  locating  some  cot 
ton-mills.  We  called  it  '  supper.' ' 

"I  can  imagine  them.  Can't  you,  Falk?  The 
moneyed  man  to  supply  the  funds,  the  lawyer  to 
draw  up  the  papers,  the  civil  engineer  to  survey 
the  property.  Very  solemn,  and  a  little  pompous, 
but  secretly  ready  for  a  burst  if  the  opportunity 
offered  under  the  right  auspices;  something  like  an 
outing  of  city  officials." 

"They  were  very  pleasant  gentlemen,'*  Mrs. 
Langbrith  interposed,  as  from  her  conscience. 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  they  were  when  they  had 
tasted  my  father's  madeira.  But  about  our  dinner 
now?  I  don't  think  we'd  better  have  more  than 
twelve,  and  I  should  want  them  equally  divided 
between  youth  and  age." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  looked  at  him  as  if  she  did  not 
quite  understand  him,  and  he  said : 

"Have  Jessamy  Colebridge  and  Hope  Hawberk 
and  Susie  Johns  and  Bob  Matthewson — he's  a  good 
fellow — and  make  out  the  half-dozen  with  Falk  and 
me;  we're  both  good  fellows.  Then,  on  your  side 
of  the  line,  yourself  first  of  all,  mother,  and  the 
rector  and  his  wife,  and  Judge  and  Mrs.  Garley, 
and — who  else?  Oh,  Dr.  Anther,  of  course!  I 
want  Falk  to  meet  the  doctor — the  dearest  and 
quaintest  old  type  in  the  world.  I  don't  know 
why  he  hasn't  been  in  to  see  us,  mother.  Has  he 
been  here  lately?" 

"He  was  here  a  day  or  two  before  you  came," 
Mrs.  Langbrith  answered,  with  her  eyes  down. 

22 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

"Perhaps  he  has  been  waiting  for  me  to  call. 
Well,  what  do  you  think  of  my  dinner-party?" 

"It  seems  very  nice,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  sighed. 

"And  haven't  you  any  preferences?  Nobody 
you  want  to  turn  down?" 

"  It  will  be  a  good  deal  of  a  surprise  for  Saxmills," 
she  suffered  herself  to  say. 

"I  flatter  myself  it  will.  I  have  been  telling 
Falk  that  the  mixed  assembly  of  old  and  young  is 
unknown  in  Saxmills." 

Falk  had  not  troubled  himself  to  take  part  in  the 
discussion,  if  it  was  that,  but  had  given  himself  to 
the  turkey  and  the  cranberry  sauce,  with  the  mashed 
potatoes  and  the  stewed  squash,  which  Mrs.  Lang 
brith  had  very  good.  Her  son  had  obliged  her  to 
provide  claret,  which  Falk  now  drank  out  of  an  ab 
normal  glass  with  a  stout  stem  and  pimpled  cup, 
hitherto  dedicated  to  currant  wine,  before  saying: 
"  It  astonished  me  less  than  if  I  had  been  used  to 
something  different  all  my  life.  You  ought  to  have 
tried  the  other  thing  on  me." 

"  Well,  I  only  supposed  from  the  smartness  of  the 
people  in  your  Caricature  pictures  that  you  had  al 
ways  lived  in  a  whirl  of  fashion." 

"That  shows  how  little  you  know  of  fashion," 
said  Falk,  and  Langbrith  laughed  with  the  difficult 
joy  of  a  man  who  owns  a  hit. 

Mrs.  Langbrith  glanced  from  one  to  the  other; 
from  her  son,  with  his  long,  distinguished  face  (he 
had  decided  that  it  was  colonial),  to  the  dark,  aqui 
line  type  of  Falk,  with  his  black  hair,  his  upward- 
pointed  mustache,  his  pouted  lips,  and  his  prom- 

23 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

inent,  floating,  brown  eyes.  In  her  abeyance,  she 
was  scared  at  the  bold  person  who  was  not  afraid 
of  her  son. 

"Well,"  said  Langbrith,  "I  shall  have  to  find 
some  one  to  illustrate  my  vers  de  societe  who  knows 
enough  of  the  world  for  both." 

"You  couldn't!"  Falk  insinuated. 

Mrs.  Langbrith  did  not  quite  catch  the  point, 
but  her  son  laughed  again.  "  No  one  ever  distances 
you,  Falk!" 

He  discussed  the  arrangement  of  the  affair  with 
his  mother.  At  the  end,  as  she  rose,  obedient  to 
his  sign,  and  he  came  round  to  give  her  his  arm,  he 
said:  "After  all,  perhaps,  it  wouldn't  be  well  to 
strike  too  hard  a  blow.  If  you  think  you  can  get 
it  up  by  Saturday  night,  mother,  we'll  drop  the 
notion  of  having  White.  Make  it  tea,  with  turkey 
at  one  end  of  the  table  and  chicken  pie  at  the  other, 
and  all  the  sweet  pickles  and  preserves  and  kinds 
of  cake  you  can  get  together ;  coffee  straight  through, 
and  a  glass  of  the  old  Langbrith  madeira  to  top  off 
with." 


MRS.  LANGBRITH  went  into  the  library  with  her  son 
and  his  friend  by  the  folding  doors  from  the  dining- 
room,  but  only  to  go  out  of  the  door  which  opened 
into  the  hall,  and  escape  by  that  route  to  the  kitch 
en  for  an  immediate  conference  with  the  cook. 

The  young  men  dropped  into  deep  leather  chairs 
at  opposite  corners  of  the  fireplace,  after  lighting 
their  cigars.  Probably,  the  comfort  of  his  seat  sug 
gested  Langbrith's  reflection:  "  It  is  a  shame  I  never 
knew  my  father.  We  should  have  had  so  much  in 
common.  I  couldn't  imagine  anything  more  adapt 
ed  to  the  human  back  than  these  chairs." 

"His  taste?"  Falk  asked,  between  whiffs. 

"Everything  in  the  house  is  his  taste.  I  don't 
believe  my  mother  has  changed  a  thing.  He  must 
have  been  a  strong  personality."  Langbrith  fol 
lowed  his  friend's  eye  in  its  lift  towards  his  father's 
portrait  over  the  mantel. 

"I  should  think  so,"  Falk  assented. 

"Those  old  New  England  faces,"  Langbrith  con 
tinued,  meditatively,  "have  a  great  charm.  From 
a  child,  that  face  of  my  father's  fascinated  me.  As 
I  got  on,  and  began  to  be  interested  in  my  environ 
ment,  I  read  into  it  all  I  had  read  out  of  Hawthorne 
about  the  Puritan  type.  I  put  the  grim  old  chaps  out 

25 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

of  The  Scarlet  Letter  and  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables 
and  the  Twice-Told  Tales  into  it,  and  interpreted 
my  father  by  them.  But,  really,  I  knew  very  little 
about  him.  My  mother's  bereavement  seemed  to 
have  sealed  her  lips,  and  I  preferred  dreaming  to 
asking.  A  kid  is  queer !  Once  or  twice  when  I  did 
ask,  she  evaded  answering ;  that  was  after  I  was  old 
enough  to  understand,  and  I  didn't  press  my  ques 
tions.  He  was  much  older  than  she ;  twenty  years, 
I  believe.  He  couldn't  have  been  a  Puritan  in  his 
creed;  he  was  a  Unitarian,  as  far  as  church-going 
went,  and  I  believe  my  mother  is  a  Unitarian  yet; 
but  she  goes  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  which  makes 
itself  a  home  for  everybody,  and  she  likes  the  rector. 
You'll  like  him,  too,  Falk." 

"He  won't  talk  theology  to  me,  I  suppose,"  Falk 
grumbled. 

"He'll  talk  athletics  with  you.  The  good  thing 
about  a  man  of  his  church  is  that  he's  usually  a  man 
of  the  world,  too.  He's  an  Enderby,  you  know." 

"I  shouldn't  be  much  the  wiser,  if  I  did,"  Falk 
said. 

"I  wouldn't  work  that  pose  so  hard,  Falk.  You 
can't  get  even  with  the  Enderby s  by  ignoring  them; 
and  you  can't  pretend  it's  meekness  that  makes 
you  profess  ignorance.  The  only  thing  I  don't  like 
about  you  is  your  peasant  pride." 

"I  still  have  hopes  of  winning  your  whole  heart 
then.  I'll  study  your  peasant  humility." 

Langbrith  made  as  if  he  had  not  noticed  the 
point.  He  rose  and  moved  restively  about  the 
room,  and  then  came  back  to  his  chair  again,  and 

26 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

said,  as  if  he  had  really  been  thinking  of  something 
else:  "If  I  should  decide  to  take  up  dramatic  liter 
ature,  I  believe  I'll  go  to  Paris  to  continue  my 
studies,  and  perhaps  we'll  keep  on  there  together. 
I  wish  we  could!  Can't  you  manage  it,  somehow? 
Those  things  of  yours  in  Caricature  have  attracted 
attention;  and  if  Life  has  asked  you  to  send  some 
thing,  why  couldn't  you  get  a  lot  of  orders,  and  go 
out  with  me?" 

"Gentle  dreamer!"  Falk  murmured. 

"No,  but  why  not,  really?" 

"  Because  a  lot  of  orders  are  not  to  be  got  for  the 
asking,  and  I'm  a  bad  hand  at  asking.  I  think 
my  cheek  is  good  for  applying  to  a  New  York  paper 
for  a  chance  to  do  scenes  in  court,  and  hurry-pict 
ures  of  fires,  and  the  persons  in  a  vivid  accident; 
but  I  don't  think  it  would  hold  out  to  invite  Har 
per's  or  Scribner's  to  have  me  do  high-class  studies 
abroad  for  them.  I  may  be  a  fool,  but  I  am  not 
that  kind  of  fool.  Unless,"  Falk  hastened  to  an 
ticipate,  "  I'm  all  kinds." 

Langbrith  was  apparently  not  watching  for  the 
chance  snatched  from  him.  "Well,  I  think  you 
could  do  it,  somehow,"  he  insisted.  "I'm  going  to 
Paris  for  my  post-graduate  business,  and  I've  set 
my  heart  on  having  you  with  me.  I  wonder,"  he 
mused  aloud,  "why  I  like  you  so  much,  Falk?" 

"I  couldn't  say,"  Falk  returned,  without  appar 
ent  interest  in  the  mystery. 

"You're  always  saying  nasty  things  to  me," 
Langbrith  pursued.  "You  take  every  chance  to 
give  me  a  dig." 

27 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"It's  all  that  keeps  you  in  bounds." 

"No—" 

"Yes,  it  is;  your  arrogance  would  naturally  splay 
all  over  the  place.  But  just  at  present,  you're  in 
the  melting  mood  that  saps  everybody 's  manhood 
towards  the  end  of  the  senior  year.  If  I  didn't 
watch  myself,  I  should  feel  a  tenderness  for  you  at 
times." 

"Would  you,  really,  Falk?"  Langbrith  appeared 
touched,  and  interested. 

"I  shall  never  know,  for  I  don't  mean  to  be 
taken  off  my  guard." 

"What  a  delightful  fellow  you  are,  Falk!" 

"Do  you  think  so?  I  should  suppose  you  were 
a  woman." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  the  women  alone  that  love  you,  old 
man.  I  love  you  because  you  are  the  only  one  who 
is  frank  with  me." 

"It  takes  courage  to  be  candid  with  a  prince. 
But,  thank  Heaven,  I  have  it." 

"Oh,  pshaw!  There's  nobody  by  to  admire  your 
sarcasms." 

"I'm  satisfied  with  you,  my  dear  boy." 

"Will  you  answer  me  a  serious  question  serious- 
ly?" 

"Yes,  if  you  keep  your  hands  off,  and  don't  try 
to  pat  me  on  the  head." 

Langbrith  was  silent,  and  he  would  not  speak, 
in  his  resentment,  till  Falk  said,  "Fire  away." 

Still  it  was  an  interval  before  Langbrith  recov 
ered  poise  enough  to  ask,  "What  do  you  think  of 
Jessamy  Colebridge?" 

28 


THE    SON    OP    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

"Hope  Hawberk,  you  mean,"  Falk  promptly 
translated. 

Langbrith  laughed,  and  said,  "Well,  make  it 
Hope  Hawberk." 

"She's  about  the  prettiest  girl  I've  seen." 

"Isn't  she!  And  the  gracefulest.  There's  more 
charm  in  grace  than  in  beauty,  every  time." 

"There  is,  this  time,  it  seems." 

Langbrith  laughed  again  for  pleasure.  "She  has 
grace  of  mind.  I  don't  know  where  she  gets  it. 
Her  father— well,  that's  a  tragedy." 

"Better  tell  it." 

"  It  would  take  a  long  time  to  do  it  justice.  He 
was  my  father's  partner,  here,  when  the  mills  were 
started,  and  I've  heard  he  was  a  very  brilliant  fel 
low.  They  were  great  friends.  But  he  must  have 
had  some  sort  of  dry  rot,  always,  and  he  took  to 
opium." 

"Kill  him?" 

"No,  it  doesn't  kill  on  those  terms,  I  believe. 
He's  away  just  now  on  one  of  his  periodical  retreats 
in  a  sanatorium,  where  they  profess  to  cure  opium- 
eating.  There's  a  lot  of  it  among  the  country  peo 
ple  about  here — the  women,  especially.  When  Haw- 
berk  comes  out,  he  is  fitter  than  ever  for  opium." 

"Well,  that's  something." 

"I  suppose  it's  Dr.  Anther  that  keeps  him  along. 
I  want  you  to  meet  Dr.  Anther,  Falk." 

"I  inferred  as  much  from  a  remark  you  made  at 
dinner." 

"Oh,  I  believe  I  did  speak  of  it.  Well,  now  you 
know  I  mean  it.  He's  one  of  those  men — doctors 

29 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

or  lawyers,  mostly;  you  don't  catch  the  reverend 
clergy  hiding  their  light  under  a  bushel  quite  so 
much — who  could  have  been  something  great  in 
the  larger  world,  if  they  hadn't  preferred  a  small 
world.  I  suppose  it  is  a  streak  of  indolence  in 
them.  Anther's  practice  has  kept  him  poor  in  Sax- 
mills,  but  it  would  have  made  him  rich  in  Boston. 
You  mustn't  imagine  that  he's  been  rusting  scientifi 
cally  here.  He  is  thoroughly  up  to  date  as  a  phy 
sician  ;  goes  away  now  and  then  and  rubs  up  in  New 
York.  He's  been  our  family  physician  ever  since  I 
can  remember,  and  before.  My  father  and  he 
were  great  cronies,  I  believe,  though  he's  never 
boasted  of  it.  I  have  inferred  it  from  things  my 
mother  has  dropped;  or  perhaps,"  Langbrith 
laughed,  "I've  only  imagined  it.  At  any  rate, 
he  dates  back  to  my  father's  time,  and  two  strong 
men,  both  willing  to  stay  in  Saxmills,  must  have 
had  a  good  deal  in  common.  He's  always  been 
in  and  out  of  the  house,  more  like  a  friend  than 
a  physician.  A  guardian  couldn't  have  looked 
after  me  better,  when  it  was  a  question  of  advice; 
and,  as  a  doctor,  he  pulled  me  through  all  the  ills 
that  flesh  of  kids  is  heir  to.  He  has  that  abrupt 
quaintness  that  an  old  doctor  gets.  He  would  go 
into  a  play  or  a  book  just  as  he  is.  You  don't  care 
so  much  for  that  sort  of  man  as  I  do,  I  know,  for 
you're  a  sort  of  character  yourself.  Now,  I'm  differ 
ent.  I- 

"This  seems  getting  to  be  more  about  you  than 
your  doctor,"  Falk  said.  He  rose,  threw  the  end 
of  his  cigar  into  the  fire,  and  stretched  himself. 

30 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

"What  is  the  matter  with  our  going  to  see  some 
of  those  girls?" 

Langbrith  flushed,  as  he  rose  too,  but  he  said 
nothing  in  making  for  the  door  with  his  friend. 

They  met  his  mother  before  they  reached  the 
door,  on  her  return  from  the  kitchen.  She  gave 
the  conscious  start  which  every  encounter  with  her 
son  surprised  from  her  since  his  home-coming,  and 
gasped,  "Will  you — shall  you — see  the  young  peo 
ple,  James?  Or  shall  I?" 

"  I  can  save  you  that  trouble,  mother.  Falk  and 
I  were  just  going  out  to  make  some  calls,  and  we 
can  ask  the  girls." 

"  Well,"  his  mother  said,  and  she  passed  the  young 
men  on  her  way  into  the  room,  while  they  stood 
aside  for  her;  she  gave  her  housekeeping  glance 
over  it,  to  see  what  things  would  have  to  be  put  in 
place  when  they  were  gone.  "Then,  I  will  ask  the 
others,  and  we  will  have  the  dance  after  supper. 
Were  you  going,"  she  turned  to  her  son  with,  for 
the  first  time,  something  like  interest,  "  to  ask 
Hope?" 

"Why,  certainly!" 

"Yes.     That  was  what  I  understood." 

"Didn't  you  want  me  to? — I  mentioned  her." 

"Yes,  yes,  oh  yes.  I  forgot.  And  your  uncle 
John?" 

"Yes,  certainly.  But  you  know  he  won't  come. 
Wild  horses  couldn't  get  him  here." 

"You  ought  to  ask  him." 

"Now,  that's  just  like  my  mother,"  Langbrith 
said,  as  he  went  out  with  Falk  into  the  night.  "  Uncle 

31 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

John  has  had  charge  of  the  mills  here  ever  since  my 
father  died,  and  he  was  nominally  my  guardian. 
But  he  hasn't  been  inside  of  the  house,  I  believe, 
half  a  dozen  times,  except  on  business,  and  he  bare 
ly  knows  me  by  sight." 

11  The  one  I  met  yesterday  in  the  office  ?" 
"Yes.  That's  where  he  lives;  that's  his  home; 
though,  of  course,  he  has  a  place  where  he  sleeps 
and  eats,  and  has  an  old  colored  man  to  keep  house 
for  him.  He's  a  perfect  hermit,  and  he'll  only  hate 
a  little  less  to  be  asked  to  come  than  he  would  to 
come.  But  mother  wouldn't  omit  asking  him  on 
any  account.  It  makes  me  laugh." 


VI 

THE  young  men  walked  away  under  the  windy 
April  sky,  with  the  boughs  of  the  elms  that  over 
hung  the  village  street  creaking  in  the  starless  dark. 
The  smell  of  spring  was  in  the  air,  which  beat  damp 
ly  and  refreshingly  in  their  faces,  hot  from  the  in 
doors  warmth. 

Langbrith  was  the  first  to  speak  again;  but  he 
did  not  speak  till  he  had  opened  the  gate  of  the 
walk  leading  up  to  the  door  of  the  houtie  where  he 
decided  to  begin  their  rounds.  ''Hello!  they're  at 
home,  apparently,"  he  said. 

The  windows  of  the  house  before  them,  as  they 
showed  to  their  advance  through  the  leafless  spray 
of  the  shrubbery,  were  bright  with  lamplight,  and 
the  sound  of  a  piano,  broken  in  upon  with  gay  shouts 
and  shrieks  of  girls'  laughter,  penetrated  the  doors 
and  the  casements.  If  there  had  been  any  doubt 
on  the  point  made,  it  was  dispersed  at  their  ring. 
There  came  a  nervous  whoop  from  within,  followed 
by  whispering  and  tittering ;  and  then  the  door  was 
flung  open  by  Jessamy  Colebridge  herself,  obscured 
by  the  light  which  silhouetted  her  little  head  and 
jimp  figure  to  the  young  men  on  the  threshold. 

"Why,  Mr.  Langbrith!  And  Mr.  Falk!  Well, 
if  this  isn't  too  much!  We  were  just  talking — • 

33 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

weren't  we,  girls?"  she  called  over  her  shoulder  into 
the  room  she  had  left,  and  Langbrith  asked  gravely : 

"May  we  come  in?     If  you  are  at  home?'' 

"At  home!  I  should  think  so!  Papa  and  mam 
ma  are  at  evening  meeting,  and  I  let  the  two  girls 
go ;  and  I  have  got  in  Hope  and  Susie  here  to  cheer 
me  up,  for  I'm  down  sick,  if  you  want  to  know, 
with  the  most  fearful  cold.  I  only  hope  it  isn't 
grippe,  but  you  can't  tell." 

She  led  them,  chattering,  into  the  parlor,  where 
the  other  young  ladies,  stricken  with  sudden  de 
corum,  stood  like  statues  of  themselves  in  the  at 
titude  of  joyous  alarm  which  the  ring  at  the  door 
had  surprised  them  into. 

One  of  them,  a  slender  girl,  with  masses  of  black 
hair,  imperfectly  put  away  from  her  face,  which 
looked  reddened  beyond  the  tint  natural  to  her  type, 
flared  at  the  young  men  with  large  black  eyes,  in  a 
sort  of  defiant  question.  The  other,  short  and 
dense  of  figure,  was  a  decided  blonde;  her  smooth 
hair  was  a  pale  gold,  and  her  serenely  smiling  face, 
with  its  close-drawn  eyelids — the  lower  almost 
touching  the  upper,  and  wrinkling  the  fine  short 
nose — was  what  is  called  "funny."  It  was  flushed, 
too,  but  was  of  a  delicacy  of  complexion  duly  at 
tested  by  its  freckles. 

There  was  a  strong  smell  of  burning  in  the  room, 
and,  somehow,  an  effect  of  things  having  been 
scurried  out  of  sight. 

The  slim  girl  gave  a  wild  cry,  and  precipitated 
herself  towards  the  fireplace  as  if  plunging  into  it; 
but  it  was  only  to  snatch  from  the  bed  of  coals  a 

34 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

long-handled  wire  cage,  from  the  meshes  of  which  a 
thick,  acrid  smoke  was  pouring.  "Much  good  it 
did  to  hustle  the  plates  away  and  leave  this  burn 
ing  up!  Open  the  window,  Jessamy!" 

But  Jessamy  left  Langbrith  to  do  it,  while  she 
clapped  her  hands  and  stood  shouting:  "We  were 
popping  corn!  The  furnace  fire  was  out,  and  I  lit 
this  to  keep  the  damp  out,  and  we  thought  we  would 
pop  some  corn!  There  was  such  a  splendid  bed  of 
coals,  and  I  was  playing,  and  Susie  and  Hope  were 
popping  the  corn !  We  were  in  such  a  gale,  and  we 
all  hustled  the  things  away  when  you  rang,  for  we 
didn't  know  who  you  were,  and  the  girls  thought  it 
would  be  too  absurd  to  be  caught  popping  corn, 
and  in  the  hurry  we  forgot  all  about  the  popper 
itself,  and  left  it  burning  up  full  of  corn  /" 

Her  voice  rose  to  a  screech,  and  she  bowed  her 
self  with  laughter,  while  she  beat  her  hands  together. 

The  young  men  listened  according  to  their  nature. 
Falk  said:  "I  thought  it  was  the  house  burning 
down.  I  didn't  know  which  of  you  ladies  wanted 
to  be  saved  first." 

The  girl  who  had  run  to  throw  the  corn-popper 
out  of  the  window  came  back  with  Langbrith,  who 
shut  the  window  behind  her.  "Oh,  I  can  swim" 
she  said,  and  they  all  laughed  at  her  joke. 

"  Well,  then,  get  the  corn,  Hope,"  Jessamy  shriek 
ed ;"  we  may  as  well  be  hung  for  a  sheep  as  a  goat. 
It  is  a  goat,  isn't  it  ?"  she  appealed  to  the  young  men. 

"It  doesn't  seem  as  if  it  were,"  Langbrith  answer 
ed,  with  mock  thoughtfulness. 

"Some  of  those  animals,  then,"  the  girl  laughed 

35 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

over  her  shoulder.  "Where  did  I  put  the  plates, 
Susie?" 

"  I  know  where  I  put  the  corn,"  Hope  said,  going 
to  the  portiere,  where  it  touched  the  floor  next  the 
room  beyond. 

Falk  ran  after  her.  "  Let  me  help  carry  it,"  he 
entreated. 

"Do  get  the  salt,  Susie,"  Jessamy  commanded. 
"  I  know  where  the  plates  are  now." 

"  We  hadn't  got  to  the  salt,"  Susie  Johns  said ;  but 
Jessamy  had  not  heard  her  when  she  stooped  over 
the  music-rack  and  handed  up  three  plates  to 
Langbrith. 

Falk  came  with  Hope,  elaborately  supporting  one 
handle  of  the  dish  with  a  little  heap  of  popped  corn 
in  the  bottom.  She  held  the  other  and  explained, 
"  We  had  only  got  to  the  first  popping,"  and  Jessamy 
added : 

"We  were  not  expecting  company." 

"We  could  go  away,"  Langbrith  suggested. 

"  Susie,  have  you  got  the  salt?"  Jessamy  implored, 
putting  the  plates  on  the  piano.  Susie  stood  smil 
ing  serenely,  and  again  the  hostess  forgot  her.  "  Shall 
we  have  it  on  the  piano,  girls?  Oh,  I  know;  let's 
have  it  on  the  hearth-rug  here." 

"Yes,"  Langbrith  said,  doubling  his  lankness 
down  before  the  fire.  He  went  on  : 

"  '  For  God's  sake,  let  us  sit  upon  the  ground, 
And  tell  sad  stories  of  the  deaths  of  kings.' ' 

Jessamy  had  not  minded  the  hoyden  prank  in 
which  he  took  her  at  her  word,  but  the  name  he 

36 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

seemed  to  invoke  so  lightly  shocked  her.  She 
drew  her  face  down  and  looked  grave. 

"It  isn't  swearing,  Jessamy,"  Hope  Hawberk  re 
assured  her;  "it's  only  Shakespeare.  Mr.  Lang- 
brith  never  talks  anything  but  Shakespeare,  you 
know."  She  had  a  deep,  throaty  voice,  which  gave 
weight  to  her  irony. 

"Oh,  all  right,"  said  Jessamy.  "Susie,  you 
wicked  thing,  have  you  got  that  salt?  Why,  of 
course!  I  never  brought  it  from  the  dining-room. 
Here,  sit  by  Mr.  Langbrith,  as  Hope  calls  him — his 
Christian  name  used  to  be  Jim — and  keep  him  from 
Shakespearing,  while  I  go  for  it." 

"You  might  get  him  a  plate,  too,"  Falk  called 
after  her.  Susie  coiled  herself  softly,  kitten-like, 
down  on  the  rug  at  Langbrith's  side.  "I'm  going 
to  eat  out  of  the  dish." 

"Hope,  don't  you  let  him!"  Jessamy  screamed 
on  her  way  to  the  dining-room. 

When  she  came  back  she  distributed  the  plates 
among  her  guests,  and  with  one,  in  which  Hope  had 
put  her  a  portion  of  corn,  she  stood  behind  them. 
"Bless  you,  my  children,"  she  said.  "Now,  trot 
out  your  kings,  Jimmy — Mr.  Langbrith,  I  should 
say." 

"Oh  no,"  Langbrith  protested;  "ghosts.  We 
oughtn't  to  tell  anything  less  goose-fleshing  than 
ghost-stories  before  this  fire." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  said  your  kings  were  dead. 
Good  kings,  dead  kings!"  Jessamy  added,  with  no 
relation  of  ideas.  "  Or  is  it  Indians  ?" 

Anything  served.  They  were  young,  and  alone 

37 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

— joyful  mysteries  to  themselves  and  to  one  an 
other.  They  talked  and  laughed.  They  hardly 
knew  what  they  said,  and  not  at  all  why  they 
laughed. 

At  nine  o'clock,  Jessamy's  father  and  mother  came 
home,  and  with  them  some  one  whose  voice  they 
knew.  The  elders  discreetly  went  up -stairs,  when 
Jessamy  called  out  to  whoever  it  was  had  come  with 
them,  "Come  in  here,  Harry  Matthewson." 

They  received  him  with  gay  screams,  Jessamy 
having  dropped  to  her  knees  beside  the  others,  for 
the  greater  effect  upon  the  smiling  young  fellow 
who  came  in  rubbing  his  hands. 

"Well,  well!"  he  said. 

"  Now  this  is  a  little  too  pat,"  Langbrith  protested, 
and  he  gave  the  invitation  which  he  had  come  writh, 
and  which  met  with  no  dissent. 

' '  It  is  a  vote,"  said  Matthewson,  with  the  authority 
of  a  young  lawyer  beginning  to  take  part  in  town 
meetings. 

"Well,  now,"  Langbrith  said,  getting  to  his  feet, 
"the  business  of  the  meeting  being  over,  I  move 
Falk  and  I  adjourn." 

"No,  no,  don't  let  him,  Mr.  Falk!  You  don't 
want  to  go,  do  you  ?" 

"Only  for  a  breath  of  air.     I'm  nearly  roasted." 

Matthewson  laughed.  "I  wondered  what  you 
were  sitting  round  the  fire  for;  it's  as  mild  as  May 
out,  and  there's  a  full  moon." 

"A  full  moon?"  Jessamy  put  out  her  hand  for 
him  to  help  her  up.  The  other  girls  put  out  their 
hands  for  help,  too.  "Then  I'll  tell  you  what. 

38 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

We'll  go  home  with  the  poor  things,  and  see  that  the 
goblins  don't  get  them.     What  do  you  say,  girls?" 

"Oh!  they  say  'yes.'  Don't  you,  girls?"  Lang- 
brith  entreated,  with  clasped  hand. 

The  young  men  helped  them  put  on  their  wraps. 
Jessamy,  when  she  was  fully  equipped  for  the  ad 
venture,  called  up-stairs  to  her  mother:  "Mamma, 
I  am  going  out  for  a  few  minutes."  Her  mother 
shrieked  back:  "Jessamy  Colebridge,  don't  you  do 
it.  You'll  take  your  death." 

"  No,  I  won't,  mamma.  The  air  will  do  my  cold 
good,"  and  she  closed  the  debate  by  shutting  the 
door  behind  her.  "Now,  that's  settled,"  she  said. 
"  Where  shall  we  go  first?" 

The  notion  of  going  home  with  Langbrith  and 
Falk  seemed  to  be  relinquished.  They  went  about 
from  one  house  to  another,  where  there  were  girls 
of  their  acquaintance,  and  sang  before  their  gates 
or  under  their  windows.  At  the  first  sign  of  con 
sciousness  within,  they  fled  with  shrieks  and  shouts. 

In  the  assortment  of  couples,  Matthewson  led  the 
way  with  Susie  Johns,  Falk  followed  with  Jessamy, 
Langbrith  and  Hope  were  paired.  Sometimes,  the 
girls  ran  on  alone;  sometimes,  in  the  dark  places, 
they  took  the  young  men's  arms. 

They  saw  each  other  to  their  houses;  then,  not 
to  be  outdone  in  civility,  the  girls  who  were  left 
came  away  with  those  who  had  left  them.  It  prom 
ised  never  to  end,  and  no  one  seemed  to  care.  The 
joy  of  their  youth  had  gone  to  their  heads  in  a  di 
vine  madness,  in  which  differences  of  temperament 
were  merged  and  they  were  all  alike. 

39 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Langbrith  did  not  know  how  it  happened  that  he 
was  at  last  taking  leave  of  Hope  Hawberk  alone  at 
her  gate.  He  stooped  over  to  whisper  something. 
She  pulled  her  hand  from  his  arm,  and  said,  "  Don't 
be  silly!"  and  ran  up  the  walk  to  her  door.  The 
elastic  weight  of  her  hand  remained  on  his  arm. 


VII 

THE  compromise  between  a  Boston  dinner  and  a 
Saxmills  tea,  which  the  mother  and  son  had  agreed 
upon,  prospered  beyond  the  wont  of  compromises. 
It  was  a  very  good  meal  of  the  older-fashioned  sort, 
and  it  was  better  served  by  Norah,  from  her  habit 
of  such  meals,  than  could  have  been  expected,  with 
the  help  of  the  niece  she  had  got  in  for  the  evening. 
The  turkey  was  set  before  Langbrith  and  the  chick 
en  pie  before  his  mother.  Norah  asked  the  guests 
which  they  would  have,  in  taking  their  plates,  and 
brought  the  plates  back  with  the  chosen  portion, 
and  the  vegetables  added  by  the  host  or  hostess 
from  the  deep  dishes  on  their  right  and  left.  There 
were  small  plates  of  subsidiary  viands,  such  as 
brandied  peaches  and  sweet  pickles,  which  the 
guests  passed  to  one  another.  Tea  and  coffee  and 
cocoa  were  served  through  the  supper  by  Norah 's 
niece  from  the  pantry,  where  she  had  them  hot 
from  the  kitchen  stove.  There  was  no  wine  till  the 
ladies  left  the  table,  when  Langbrith  had  Norah  put 
down,  with  the  cigars,  some  decanters  of  madeira 
from,  as  he  said,  his  father's  stock.  He  had  a  little 
pomp  in  saying  that;  it  seemed  to  him  there  was 
something  ancestral  in  it. 

Instead  of  letting  all  follow  the  hostess  out  to 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

supper  pell-mell,  as  the  Saxmills  custom  had  always 
been,  he  went  about  asking  the  men,  sotto  voce,  if 
they  would  take  out  such  and  such  ladies.  "Will 
you  take  out  my  mother,  Dr.  Anther?"  he  said, 
with  special  graciousness.  He  told  Falk  to  give 
his  arm  to  Hope  Hawberk,  and  he  gave  his  own  to 
the  rector's  wife.  But  when  they  came  to  look  up 
their  places,  and  found  their  names,  by  Falk's  ex 
ample,  on  cards  beside  their  plates,  Hope  found 
hers  on  Langbrith's  left.  That  way  of  appointing 
people  their  chairs  was  an  innovation  at  Saxmills, 
and  the  girls  put  their  dinner  cards  where  they 
should  remember  to  take  them  away.  But  the  ef 
fect  of  this  innovation  was  lost  in  the  great  innova 
tion  of  having  old  and  young  people  together  at 
tea.  The  like  had  not  happened  in  Saxmills  before ; 
except  at  a  church  sociable  or  a  Sunday-school  pic 
nic,  it  had  scarcely  happened  that  the  different  ages 
met  at  all.  When  they  did,  it  was  understood  that 
the  old  people  were  to  go  away  early,  and  leave  the 
young  people  to  take  their  pleasure  in  their  own 
fashion. 

At  first,  the  affair  went  hitchily.  The  girls  had 
confided  to  one  another,  in  the  library,  their  aston 
ishment  at  finding  themselves  in  the  mixed  com 
pany,  and  their  wonder  whether  their  elders  were 
going  to  stay  for  the  dance.  But,  partly  through 
their  fear  of  Langbrith,  which  they  could  overcome 
only  when  they  had  him  on  their  own  ground,  and 
partly  through  their  embarrassment  at  being  obliged 
to  talk  with  the  rector  and  the  doctor  and  the 
judge,  they  remained  in  a  petrified  decorum  which 

42 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

lasted  well  into  the  supper.  Even  when  Jessamy 
Colebridge  caught  the  eye  of  Hope  Hawberk  from 
her  place  diagonally  across  the  table,  and  saw  its 
lid  droop  in  a  slow,  deliberate  wink,  instead  of  burst 
ing  into  a  whoop  of  sympathetic  intelligence,  she 
blushed  painfully  and  turned  her  face  away,  with  a 
tendency  to  tears.  She  was  not  having,  as  she 
would  have  said,  a  bit  good  time,  between  the  judge 
on  one  hand,  who  did  not  speak  much  to  any  one, 
and  Mr.  Matthewson  on  the  other,  who  was  talking 
to  Susie  Johns.  And  she  felt  the  joyous  mockery  of 
Hope's  triumph,  where  she  sat  between  Falk  and 
Langbrith,  without  the  ability  to  respond  in  kind. 
Besides,  she  could  not  see  why  her  father  and  moth 
er  had  not  been  invited,  if  there  were  going  to  be 
old  people.  She  could  not  catch  the  words  which 
were  kindly  cast  her  across  the  table,  from  time  to 
time,  by  the  judge's  wife.  But  good  cheer  is  a 
solvent  which  few  spiritual  discomforts  can  resist. 
Before  she  left  the  table,  Jessamy  was  beginning  to 
have  the  good  time  which  mounted  as  the  evening 
went  on,  and  culminated  in  Mr.  Matthewson 's  going 
home  with  her.  Judge  Garley  had  scarcely  talked 
to  a  young  girl  since  his  wife  had  ceased  to  be  one. 
But  he  was  so  little  versed  in  the  nature  of  girls 
that  he  did  not  know  how  much  he  had  failed  to  en 
joy  Jessamy 's  conversation  till  his  wife  asked  him 
at  home  how  he  could  manage  to  find  things  to  say 
to  that  little  simpleton.  In  fact,  he  had  set  her  and 
young  Matthewson  talking  across  him,  while  Susie 
sat  placidly  silent,  or  funnily  smiled  to  her  indirect 
vis-a-vis,  who  happened  to  be  Falk,  released  to  her 

43 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

by  Hope's  preoccupation  with  Langbrith.  As  he 
noted  to  Susie,  those  two  seemed  to  be  having 
rather  a  stormy  time,  springing  from  a  radical  dif 
ference  of  opinion  upon  a  point  of  sociology  ad 
vanced  by  Langbrith,  who  held  that  the  unions 
ought  to  be  broken  up,  and  alleged  their  criminal 
incivism  even  in  their  strikes  in  such  a  small  place 
as  Saxmills,  where  labor  and  capital  were  person 
ally  acquainted. 

Mrs.  Enderby  was  heard  saying  affably,  across 
the  table  to  Hope:  "I  didn't  know  young  people 
took  such  an  interest  in  those  things.  You  ought 
to  talk  with  Mr.  Enderby.  I'm  afraid  he  finds  me 
very  lukewarm." 

"Oh,  well,  then,  Til  talk  with  you,  Mrs.  Ender 
by,"  Langbrith  promised.  "There's  nothing  I  like 
so  much  as  lukewarmness  on  these  subjects.  I'd  no 
idea  I  should  get  into  such  hot  water  with  Miss 
Hawberk.  I  believe  she's  a  walking  delegate  in 
disguise!" 

"Well,"  the  girl  said,  "I  shouldn't  like  anything 
better  than  to  lead  your  hands  out  on  a  strike.  I 
think  it  would  be  fun." 

Mrs.  Enderby  said  "Oh!"  in  compliance  with  the 
convention  that  one  ought  to  be  shocked  by  such 
audacity,  but  really  amused  with  it. 

"You'll  find  me  in  the  ranks  of  labor,  if  you  ever 
do  lead  a  strike,"  Langbrith  said,  gallantly  desert 
ing  his  colors. 

Hope  went  on:  "I  should  like  to  be  a  great  labor 
leader  and  start  a  revolution." 

"  What  salary  would  you  want  ?"  Langbrith  asked. 

44 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"About  half  the  profits  of  the  employers!"  the 
girl  came  back. 

"Well,  we  must  talk  to  Uncle  John  about  that. 
He  manages  the  mills.  But  if  your  strike  cut  the 
profits  down  to  nothing?" 

"There,  there!"  Mrs.  Enderby  interposed.  "You 
mustn't  let  your  joke  go  too  far." 

"Oh,  I  haven't  been  joking,"  Hope  said. 

"I  was  never  more  in  earnest,"  Langbrith  fol 
lowed,  laughing. 

His  laughing  provoked  her.  She  wanted,  some 
how,  to  turn  their  banter  into  earnest — to  say  some 
thing  saucy  to  him,  something  violent;  something 
that  would  show  Mrs.  Enderby  that  she  was  not 
afraid  of  him.  At  the  same  time,  she  believed  she 
did  not  care  for  Mrs.  Enderby  or  what  she  might 
think,  and  in  the  midst  of  her  insurrection  it  seemed 
to  her  that  he  was  handsomer  than  she  had  ever  sup 
posed — that  he  had  beautiful  eyes.  She  noticed,  for 
the  first  time,  that  they  were  gray,  instead  of 
black. 

"How  do  you  like  my  flowers?"  he  asked,  as  if 
their  talk  had  been  of  the  decorations  of  the  table. 

"  Oh,  did  they  all  come  out  of  your  conservatory  ?" 
she  returned,  with  an  amiability  which  she  could  not 
account  for.  "It  looks  very  pretty  from  here." 
She  glanced  down  the  table,  with  a  quick  turn  of  her 
little  head,  towards  the  glass  extension  of  the  room, 
where  the  plants  bedded  in  the  ground  showed  their 
green  and  bloom  in  masses  under  the  paper  lanterns, 
and  the  fine  spray  of  an  inaudible  fountain  glim 
mered. 

45 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Yes,  doesn't  it?  Everything  that  my  mother 
touches  flourishes." 

"Oh,  I  know  that!"  the  girl  said,  with  an  intona 
tion  of  wonder  and  reverence. 

"There  are  very  few  things,"  he  said,  from  his 
proud  satisfaction,  "that  my  mother  can't  do  bet 
ter  than  anybody  else." 

"Did  you  have  to  go  to  Harvard  to  find  that 
out?  Everybody  in  Saxmills  knew  it!" 

"But  you  haven't,"  he  reverted,  "said  what  you 
thought  of  the  arrangement."  He  indicated  the 
flowers  on  the  table  with  a  turn  of  his  head. 

Another  mood  seized  her.  "You  can't  spoil 
flowers!" 

"  Well,  I  did  my  worst."  He  wished  her  to  know 
that  he  had  suggested  their  arrangement. 

Mrs.  Enderby  was  talking  with  her  left-hand 
neighbor.  Langbrith  lowered  his  voice  slightly  in 
asking:  "Are  you  going  to  give  me  the  first  dance, 
Hope?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said  vaguely;  and  then  in 
differently,  "  I  suppose  I  must  begin  by  dancing 
with  somebody." 

He  laughed  and  they  were  silent,  while  she  kept 
herself  from  panting  by  drawing  each  breath  very 
slowly  and  smoothly.  Her  breast  heaved  and  her 
nostrils  dilated. 

There  came  a  quick  clash  on  the  glass  roof  of 
the  conservatory.  "Rain?"  she  said.  "Goodness! 
How  are  we  going  to  get  home?" 

"  Oh,  don't  even  talk  of  going  home,"  he  implored, 
and  she  laughed. 

46 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

He  looked  down  the  table  to  catch  his  mother's 
eye,  and  give  her  the  sign  for  rising  with  the  ladies 
and  leaving  the  room.  That  was  a  main  part  of 
his  innovation  and  a  thing  unprecedented.  But 
he  had  agree?!  with  Falk  that  the  stroke  could  be 
broken  by  each  giving  his  arm,  in  the  new  fashion, 
to  his  partner,  and  taking  her  back  to  the  library. 
The  other  men  did  not  understand,  and  waited,  on 
foot,  for  the  cue  from  him.  He  lost  his  head,  which 
seemed  to  whirl  on  his  shoulders,  and  he  was  stoop 
ing  to  offer  his  arm  to  Hope  when  he  remembered 
Mrs.  Enderby. 

He  was  stupefied  into  the  awkwardness  of  say 
ing,  "Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon!" 

The  rector's  wife  laughed,  from  a  woman's  per 
ennial  joy  in  the  sight  of  such  feeling  as  his.  "  Oh, 
I  shouldn't  have  minded." 

Hope  gave  an  imitation  of  not  having  noticed, 
which  none  but  a  connoisseur  could  have  distin 
guished  from  the  genuine. 


VIII 

"  DR.  ANTHER,  I  want  to  introduce  Mr.  Falk  a  lit 
tle  more  particularly  to  my  oldest  and  best  friend." 

11  Will  he  know  what  to  do  with  such  a  treasure  ?" 

Dr.  Anther  returned  Falk's  tentative  bow  with 
smiling  irony,  while  he  reached  with  his  left  hand 
for  the  cigars  which  Langbrith  offered  him. 

Every  one  was  still  on  foot,  after  leaving  the 
ladies  in  the  library,  and  Langbrith  said  to  the 
group:  "Sit  down,  gentlemen,"  and  placed  himself 
before  answering  the  doctor.  "  Yes,  I  think  he  will. 
You  smoke,  don't  you,  Dr.  Enderby?  And  you, 
Judge?  Matthewson,  I  know,  doesn't.  Start  the 
madeira  after  the  sun,  Harry."  He  pushed  the 
cigars  towards  the  elders  and  the  decanter  towards 
the  young  man,  whom  he  bade  give  the  smokers 
the  candle.  "Yes,"  he  went  on,  to  put  Falk  and 
Dr.  Anther  at  ease  with  each  other,  "Falk's  father 
is  a  physician,  and  my  physician  is  the  only  father 
I  have  known." 

"Oh,  you're  very  good,  James!"  the  doctor  said, 
forgiving  to  the  genuine  feeling  in  the  young  fel 
low's  voice  the  patronage  of  his  words:  "I  can't 
say  less  than  that  no  son  of  mine  has  given  me  less 
trouble."  The  two  laughed  together,  and  Falk 
smiled  conditionally,  as  if  he  suspected  that  this 

48 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

country  practitioner  had  his  knife  out.     "Are  you 
going  in  for  medicine,  too?"  the  doctor  asked. 

"  Worse  yet,"  Langbrith  answered  for  him.  "  He's 
going  in  for  art.  I  don't  know  whether  my  mother 
has  shown  you  any  copies  of  Caricature  which  I  send 
her.  But,  if  she  has,  you  know  Falk's  work.  It's 
the  best  part  of  Falk.  Falk  is  Caricature  himself— 
with  my  poor  help  in  joking  a  picture  now  and 
then." 

"This  puts  me  on  my  good  behavior  at  once," 
Anther  said.  "  Mr.  Falk  may  be  looking  for  types." 

"No,  no;  Falk's  types  always  look  for  him,"  said 
Langbrith.  "Won't  you  sit  down?" 

"I've  been  sitting,"  Anther  said,  and  he  walked, 
Falk  with  him,  towards  the  conservatory. 

"Well,  it's  a  change,  and  your  smoke  will  help 
the  plants,"  Langbrith  called,  and  he  turned  to  take 
part  in  the  talk  of  the  judge  and  the  rector,  to  which 
Matthewson  was  listening  with  the  two  sorts  of  def 
erence  respectively  due  to  the  law  and  to  the  church. 

"Well,  Mr.  Falk,"  Anther  said,  "I  suppose  we 
must  make  the  best  of  being  two  such  remarkable 
people.  I  hope  you're  enjoying  your  visit  to  Sax- 
mills." 

"Oh,  very  much,"  Falk  answered,  smiling  less 
conditionally. 

"  I  don't  know  that  it's  much  adapted  to  pictorial 
satire." 

"You  must  make  allowance  for  the  stately  lay 
out  Langbrith  gives  his  friends,"  said  Falk,  and  the 
gleam  of  intelligence  in  the  doctor's  shaggily  pent- 
roofed  eyes  satisfied  him  of  his  ground. 

49 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  The  place  has  always  struck  me  as  very  pictu 
resque,"  the  doctor  continued.  "  Of  course,  I  don't 
know;  but  a  good  head  of  water  seems  to  imply 
broken  ground,  and  if  there's  a  fall,  such  as  we  have 
here,  it  means  ap  and  down  hill  and  the  broken 
banks  and  the  rapids  and  other  things  that  you  ar 
tists  are  supposed  to  care  for." 

"I  don't  know  whether  we  really  do — or  I  do," 
the  young  man  said,  modestly.  "I'm  rather  more 
for  the  figure,  I  reckon." 

"Western?"  the  doctor  asked,  with  a  lift  of  the 
pent-roofs. 

"Northern  Kentucky;  Catletsburg." 

"Curious!  I  thought  of  settling  in  that  place, 
myself,  before  I  came  to  Saxmills.  Not  New  Eng 
land  people?" 

"No,  my  people  were  German.  My  grandfather 
came  out  after  the  1848  revolutions." 

"Oh,  indeed!  Rather  odd  I  should  meet  some 
one  from  Catletsburg  at  this  late  day.  I've  hardly 
thought  of  it  since  I  gave  up  going  there.  Except 
for  a  run  to  New  York,  at  times,  I  have  been  twenty- 
two  years  in  Saxmills,  and  I  don't  suppose  I  shall 
ever  go  anywhere  else  to  live.  In  that  time,  a  man's 
life  shapes  itself  to  the  environment,  and  new  sur 
roundings  hurt.  Don't  you  find  it  so?" 

"  Well,  I'm  just  trying  my  first  twenty- two  years." 

"To  be  sure,"  the  doctor  laughed.  "I  suppose 
you  and  James  are  thrown  a  good  deal  together  at 
Harvard." 

"This  last  year,  yes.  Since  he  took  the  editor 
ship  of  Caricature.1' 

5° 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Oh,  indeed!  He  must  be  very  popular,  then, 
to  have  that?" 

"  Not  very,"  Falk  answered,  tranquilly.  He  look 
ed  steadily  at  the  doctor,  in  breaking  off  his  cigar 
ash,  as  if  asking  his  eyes  how  far  he  might  go.  Then 
he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  but  with  a  certain  indifference 
as  to  being  overheard  in  his  manner :  "  A  good  many 
of  the  fellows  think  he's  an  ass.  They  can't  stand 
him.  But  they  make  a  mistake.  He's  got  a  lot  of 
ability.  He  doesn't  do  himself  justice." 

"  How?"  the  doctor  asked,  blowing  his  smoke  out. 

"Too  patronizing.  But  he  doesn't  mean  any 
thing  by  it,  as  I  know.  All  you  have  got  to  do  is 
to  call  him  down.  He  stands  that  first  rate,  if  he 
likes  you,  or  if  he  thinks  you  are  right.  And  he 
stands  by  his  friends." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  so  much  good  of  him.  Nat 
urally,  I'm  interested  in  him,  knowing  his — mother 
so  long." 

Falk  asked — from  a  feeling  that  the  doctor  had 
meant  to  say  "family"  rather  than  "mother" — • 
"You  knew  his  father?" 

"Oh  yes,  but  he  died  when  James  was  a  very 
little  child." 

"  He  seems  to  have  a  sort  of  ancestor  worship  for 
him,"  said  Falk,  with  a  slight  amusement  in  his  face. 

"  Yes,"  the  doctor  dryly  allowed. 

Langbrith  was  talking  gayly  with  his  other  guests 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  table,  where  his  voice  rose 
in.  somewhat  noisy  dominance.  He  seemed  to  be 
laying  down  the  law  on  some  point;  and  the  others 
to  be  politely  submitting  rather  than  agreeing. 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Anther  stood  looking  at  him.  He  turned  to 
Falk,  and,  with  his  face  slightly  canted  towards  Lang- 
brith,  he  asked  from  one  side  of  his  mouth,  "  You've 
noticed  his  portrait  in  the  library?" 

"Jimmy  doesn't  let  you  escape  that!"  Falk  said. 

"  How  do  you  like  it  ?" 

1  'You  mean  artistically?" 

"  No,  personally.     How  does  the  face  strike  you  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  think  I  could  worship  an  ancestor 
like  that.  Perhaps  it  isn't  a  good  likeness." 

"  It  was  painted  from  a  photograph." 

"  Yes,  so  he  said.  And  that  sort  of  portrait  seems 
always  to  fail  in  conveying  character." 

Doctor  Anther  made  no  reply  for  some  time.  In 
fact,  he  made  no  reply  at  all.  He  asked,  "And 
such  character  as  it  does  convey?" 

"Well,  he  looks  too  much  like  a  cat  that  has  been 
at  the  cream.  And  it  isn't  the  feline  slyness  alone 
that's  there:  there's  the  feline  ferocity.  Perhaps 
it's  like  a  tiger  that's  been  at  the  cream." 

The  doctor  said  gravely,  "The  artist  had  never 
seen  Langbrith  in  life.  You  don't  find  anything  of 
that  sort  in  James?" 

"  No,  he's  like  his  mother  in  looks." 

"Oh  yes.  Don't  you  find — as  an  artist — Miss 
Hawberk  very  striking?" 

"Wonderful.  If  I  may  speak  as  an  artist.  That 
cloud  of  hair  hanging  over  her  little  face,  and  those 
coal-black  eyes,  and  that  red  mouth  between  the 
pale  cheeks!  If  I  were  a  painter,  which  I'm  not, 
and  never  shall  be,  I  should  want  nothing  better 
than  to  spend  my  life  studying  such  a  face." 

52 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Her  father,"  the  doctor  said,  looking  at  Falk, 
as  if  to  question  how  much  he  knew  already,  "is 
an  extraordinary  man." 

"  So  Langbrith  tells  me.     He  told  me  about  him." 

"Oh,  then,"  said  the  doctor  with  the  effect  of 
implying  that  there  need  be  nothing  more  said  on 
that  point;  "you  must  stop  me  when  I  seem  to 
be  asking  unwarrantable  things.  Do  you  think  that 
James — " 

"Doctor!  Won't  you  come  here?"  Langbrith 
called  to  him  from  the  other  end  of  the  table  where 
he  was  sitting.  "  I've  got  three  stubborn  men 
against  me  here,  on  a  point  which  I  want  you  to 
settle  in  my  favor." 

"Somebody  must  give  way,  and  you  know  I 
can't,"  the  rector  said,  using  the  well-known  words 
of  the  Boston  lady  who  appealed  to  reason  against 
her  adversaries. 

"What  is  this  point  that  only  one  of  you  can 
agree  on?"  the  doctor  asked,  coming  up. 

Langbrith  laughed  with  high  good  humor,  as  if 
still  in  the  afterglow  of  Hope  Hawberk's  playful 
hostilities.  The  qualities  which  gave  his  classmates 
the  question  whether  he  was  not  an  ass  were  in  abey 
ance.  Even  if  he  showed  no  such  deference  as 
Matthewson  paid  to  the  judge  or  the  clergyman,  he 
was  withheld  from  patronizing  them  by  the  instinct 
of  hospitality.  At  the  worst,  his  superiority  took 
the  form  of  pressing  the  wine  on  them,  and  insisting 
that  they  had  failed  to  get  good  cigars. 

"Oh,  I  expect  there  will  be  two,  now,  doctor," 
he  crowed.  "It's  a  question  of  taste.  I  don't 

53 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

know  how  we  got  to  talking  about  it — do  you, 
judge?  or  you,  Dr.  Enderby?  But  we  were  speak 
ing  of  that  immediate  acquiescence  of  a  community 
in  a  change  of  name — like  that  of  Groton  Junction 
to  Ayer  Junction.  The  pill-man  gave  a  town-hall, 
or  something  like  that,  to  the  place,  and  the  bargain 
was  struck.  Said,  done:  and  from  that  day  to  this 
nobody  has  mentioned  Groton  Junction  even  by  a 
slip  of  the  tongue,  though  the  school  at  Groton 
keeps  the  old  name  alive  and  honored.  The  judge, 
here,  and  Dr.  Enderby  were  saying  it  was  a  pity 
that  we  had  to  keep  such  an  ugly  and  indistinctive 
name  as  'Saxmills,'  and  I  was  defending  it,  just  be 
cause  it  was  ugly  and  indistinctive.  I  was  saying 
that  the  whole  American  thing  was  ugly  and  indis 
tinctive,  and  that,  if  there  was  any  choice,  it  was 
more  so  in  New  England  than  elsewhere.  But  now 
I  want  to  tell  you  all  something,"  and  he  went  eager 
ly  on,  as  if  to  forestall  any  interruptive  expression 
of  opinion  from  the  others  on  a  point  which  did  not 
really  matter.  He  glanced  at  Falk,  where  he  stood 
blowing  rings  of  smoke  into  the  air  at  the  door  of 
the  conservatory,  as  if  about  to  demand  his  nearer 
presence,  but  apparently  decided  to  include  him 
by  lifting  his  voice.  "There  was  a  time  when  a 
change  of  name  was  suggested  here.  Did  you  ever 
know  about  it?"  he  asked  the  doctor. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  with  indifference. 

"No?  Well,  that  was  just  like  my  father,  if  I 
read  his  character  right.  He  would  have  consulted 
with  you,  if  he  had  not  decided  of  himself  to  suppress 
the  whole  thing  from  himself,  and  by  himself.  It 

54 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

was  after  he  had  built  the  library,  and  given  it  to 
the  town.  There  was  a  dedication,  and  all  that ;  and 
in  a  little  diary — one  of  those  little  pocket-almanac 
diaries,  you  know — which  I  came  across  the  other 
day  among  my  father's  papers,  I  found  this  laconic 
entry:  'Library  dedication.  Had  been  some  talk 
of  changing  Saxmills  to  Langbrith,  but  I  squelched 
that  so  thoroughly  that  nobody  peeped  about  it.' 
Do  you  recall  any  such  talk?" 

Anther  shook  his  head  again.  "  It  was  before  my 
time,  here." 

"And  mine,"  the  judge  said. 

The  rector  did  not  think  it  worth  while  saying  it 
was  before  his,  apparently ;  he  was  such  a  new-comer. 
But  he  said:  " It  was  almost  a  pity  he  squelched  it. 
Langbrith  would  have  been  a  fine  name." 

The  young  man  could  scarcely  conceal  his  satis 
faction.  "Oh,  it  would  have  been  rather  too  ro 
mantic  and  Old  English  for  a  New  England  paper- 
mill  town.  I'm  afraid  it  would  have  given  the 
expectation  of  laid  note,  with  deckelled  edges." 

The  rector  owned  that  there  might  be  something 
in  that,  but  he  insisted  that  the  name  was  fine. 

"I  think  my  father  was  right.  And  it  was  like 
him;  don't  you  think  so,  doctor?" 

"Very,"  Anther  assented  briefly. 

"  I  can  imagine  just  how  he  would  have  squelched 
it  when  the  committee — there  must  have  been  a 
committee — came  to  propose  the  new  name  to  him. 
I  should  not  have  liked  to  be  in  their  shoes.  He 
was  not  a  man,  as  I  imagine  him,  to  have  stood 
anything  he  considered  nonsense."  Langbrith  look- 

55 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ed  at  the  doctor  for  confirmation,  but  Anther  smok 
ed  on  in  silence.  Langbrith  was  probably  too  well 
pleased  to  note  his  silence  with  offence.  He  asked 
abruptly,  "Is  that  a  good  likeness  of  him  in  the 
library?" 

"It  was  painted  from  a  photograph,  you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know.  Still,  if  it's  well  done,  it  would 
convey  his  personality." 

"It's  fairly — characteristic." 

Falk,  from  his  station  between  the  conservatory 
doors,  grinned. 

Langbrith  frowned  slightly.  "It  doesn't  suit 
me,  quite.  And  this  brings  me  to  something  I 
want  to  talk  with  you  gentlemen  about.  I've  been 
thinking,  for  some  time,  of  offering  the  town  a 
medallion  likeness  of  my  father  to  be  put  up  in 
front  of  the  library  somewhere."  He  looked  round 
at  the  others,  but  they  waited  as  if  for  him  to  de 
velop  his  idea  fully.  "My  notion  is,  something  in 
bronze ;  a  low  relief,  of  course,  and  a  profile,  or  three- 
quarters  face.  The  difficulty  is  about  getting  that 
view  of  him.  The  thing  in  the  library  is  a  full  face, 
and  I  don't  feel  somehow  that  it  does  him  justice. 
Do  you,  doctor?" 

"Not  perfect  justice,  no." 

"He  had  a  very  strong  character,  but  that  paint 
ing  conveys  the  notion  of  hardness  rather  than 
strength.  Perhaps  the  hardness  was  something  in 
the  painter's  method,  and  he  couldn't  eliminate  it 
from  the  likeness."  The  judge  and  the  rector  smiled. 
Anther  said  nothing. 

"  But  if  I  could  get  hold  of  the  right  man  to  do  the 

56 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

work,  and  could  have  you  to  help  out  from  memory, 
doctor—" 

"I  couldn't,"  Anther  said,  abruptly. 

The  door-bell  rang.  Langbrith  lost  the  frown  in 
which  his  forehead  had  gathered,  and  smiled  as  he 
rose,  and  threw  on  the  table  the  napkin  he  had  been 
dragging  across  his  lap  while  he  talked.  "There 
they  come !  This  is  something  I  should  like  to  talk 
over  with  you  gentlemen  again."  The  judge  and 
the  rector  made  murmurs  of  friendly  assent  in  their 
throats;  the  doctor  did  nothing  to  signify  his 
acquiescence.  "  But,  in  the  meantime,  I  would 
rather  you  wouldn't  speak  of  it  out  of  your  own 
circle.  Shall  I  follow  you?"  He  made  a  motion 
for  his  guests  to  precede  him,  and  called  over  his 
shoulder  to  his  friend,  ''Come  along,  Falk." 


IX 

THE  dance  was  coming  to  an  end,  and  the  girls, 
some  of  them,  followed  by  as  many  young  men, 
strayed  out  between  the  waltzes  into  the  conserva 
tory,  to  escape  the  heat;  after  trying  the  air,  they 
said  it  was  no  cooler,  only  damper,  and  nished  back 
at  the  first  strain  of  the  music  for  the  last  figure  of 
the  dance.  Hope  Hawberk  stayed,  and  Langbrith 
stayed  with  her.  "Why  don't  you  go  back  and 
look  after  your  guests?"  she  challenged  him. 

"  The  guest  that  needs  looking  after  most  is  here/' 
He  broke  a  rose  from  the  vine  at  his  hand,  and  threw 
it  across  the  little  fountain  at  her,  where  she  stood 
with  her  head  framed  in  the  pale  greenery  of  a  jas 
mine  bush.  She  lifted  herself,  haughtily.  "May  I 
ask  what  you  mean,  Mr.  Langbrith?"  Suddenly, 
while  he  stood,  mystified  and  sobered,  by  the  sever 
ity  of  her  tone,  she  brought  one  hand  from  behind 
her,  where  she  had  been  keeping  both,  and  dashed 
a  rose  in  his  face.  She  tried  to  escape  by  the  path 
that  led  up  to  the  dining-room  door  past  the  callas 
in  the  oval  bed  about  the  fountain.  He  was  in 
stantly  there  to  meet  her,  to  catch  her  by  a  slim 
wrist  and  hold  her  fast. 

"You  witch!"  he  panted.  "Oh,  Hope,  may  I 
go  home  with  you?  The  way  we  used  to?" 

58 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Before  you  were  such  a  great  person?" 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  to  me  ?"  he  entreated. 

u  Because — because  you  are  hurting  my  wrist," 
she  answered,  with  a  child's  wilful  inconsequence. 

He  released  it  with  all  but  his  thumb  and  fore 
finger,  and  bent  over  it  as  if  to  see  what  harm  he 
had  done,  while  she  stood  passive.  He  kissed  the 
red  marks  his  fingers  had  left. 

"What  next,  Mr.  Langbrith?"  she  said,  with  a 
feint  of  cold  impersonality. 

"You  know!  Will  you  let  me  go  home  with 
you?" 

"You're  making  me  break  your  mother's  lilies!" 

"  I  don't  care  for  the  lilies.  I  care  for  you,  you, 
you!  May  I  go  home  with  you?" 

Another  dash  of  the  fitful  April  rain,  which  seem 
ed  to  have  gathered  again,  smote  the  glass  roof; 
then  it  began  to  fall  steadily.  "You  may  lend  me 
an  umbrella,"  she  said. 

"Well,  if  I  may  go  along  to  carry  it." 

"Oh,  if  you're  afraid  of  not  getting  it  back!" 

"Yes,  I  can't  trust  you." 

"You're  hurting  me  again.  Don't  make  me  cry. 
Everybody  will  know  it,"  she  pleaded,  releasing 
her  wrist  and  passing  her  handkerchief  over  her 
eyes,  with  her  face  turned  from  the  doors. 

"Ah,  Hope!"  he  tried  to  catch  her  hands,  but 
she  whipped  them  behind  her,  the  handkerchief 
still  in  one  of  them,  and  ran,  while  he  followed 
slowly. 

The  rain  stopped  again,  before  the  dance  was 
ended.  The  old  people  had  gone  home  before,  and 

59 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  dancers  now  sallied  out  together  into  the  air 
that  had  softened,  since  nightfall,  tinder  a  sky  where 
the  moon  sailed  in  seas  of  blue,  among  islands  of 
white  cloud.  The  girls  started  chattering,  laugh 
ing,  with  meaningless  cries,  massing  themselves  at 
first,  and  then  losing  themselves  from  the  group, 
one  by  one,  and  finding  their  way  homeward  with 
the  young  men  who  seemed  to  fall  to  their  share, 
each  as  by  divine  accident. 

Langbrith  and  Hope  Hawberk  were  the  foremost 
to  put  a  space  between  themselves  and  the  others, 
and  he  pressed  closer  and  closer  to  his  side  the  hand 
she  let  lie  on  his  arm.  "Will  you  say  it  now?" 
he  was  insisting. 

"  No  more  now  than  ever.  What  good  would  it 
do,  I  should  like  to  know." 

"How  delicious!    All  the  good  in  the  world!" 

"Well,  I  shall  not.  Why  should  you  want  me 
to  be  engaged  to  you . " 

".Oh,  if  you'll  only  say  you  love  me,  we'll  let  the 
engagement  go!" 

"Thank  you!  Well,  we'll  let  it  go  without  my 
saying  anything  so  silly." 

"  But  I  may  say  that  I  love  you." 

"Yes,  so  long  as  you  don't  mean  it." 

"  But  I  do  mean  it — I  do,  heart  and  soul.  Hope, 
can't  you  be  serious?  May  I  write  to  you  from 
Cambridge  when  I  get  back." 

"How  can  I  help  that?  I  suppose  the  mail  will 
have  to  bring  your  letters!" 

"But  will  you  answer  them?" 

"Perhaps  they  won't  need  answering." 

60 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Oh  yes,  they  will.     I  shall  ask  questions." 

"  Well,  I  never  could  answer  questions.  That's 
the  one  thing  I  can't  do." 

"Then  you  don't  want  me  to  write  to  you?" 

"  What  an  idea!  I  thought  it  was  you  that  were 
doing  the  wanting." 

"And  I  may?" 

"  Well,  you  may  write  one  letter." 

"Oh,  how  intoxicating  you  are,  Hope!"  He  tried 
in  his  rapture  to  put  his  hand  on  hers,  but  it  had 
slipped  from  his  arm,  and  she  was  flying  up  the 
path  before  him.  He  followed  after  a  moment  of 
surprise;  but,  because  she  was  fleet  of  foot,  or  be 
cause  she  had  that  little  start  of  him,  or  because  he 
felt  the  chase  undignified,  he  did  not  overtake  her 
till  she  had  reached  her  gate.  The  little  story-and- 
a-half  house,  overshadowed  by  two  tall  spruces, 
under  the  shoulder  of  the  hill,  was  withdrawn  only 
a  few  yards  from  the  street,  to  which  the  gabled 
porch  at  the  front-door  brought  it  a  few  feet  nearer. 

She  put  her  hand,  panting,  on  the  gate,  and  he 
had  his  on  her  shoulder,  laughing,  when,  with  an  in 
stinct  of  another  presence,  rather  than  a  knowledge, 
she  turned  vividly  towards  him,  and  put  her  hand 
to  her  lip.  He  checked  his  laughter,  and  at  her  for 
mal  "  Good-night  "  he  said,  reluctantly,  "  Well,  good 
night,"  and  faltered  outside  the  gate  which  she  shut 
between  them. 

"  Won't  you  come  in,  Jim?"  a  voice  called  huskily 
from  the  darkness  of  the  little  portico,  and  before 
he  could  formulate  his  "Oh  no,  thank  you,  Mr. 
Hawberk,  it's  rather  late,"  the  figure  of  a  man  ad- 

61 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

vanced  from  its  shadow.  Around  this  figure  Hope 
faded  into  the  shadow  it  had  left. 

"  It's  only  nine,"  Hawberk  said.  "  Come  in,  and 
we'll  have  a  bottle  of  champagne  together.  I'm 
just  up  from  Boston,  where  I've  been  passing  a 
week  with  some  of  your  father's  old  friends:  gay 
people.  I  was  out  at  Cambridge,  where  I  met  some 
of  the  college  grandees.  They  gave  me  great  ac 
counts  of  you.  I  was  coming  round  in  the  morn 
ing  to  see  your  mother.  She'll  like  to  know  direct 
from  the  university  authorities  that  you  are  regard 
ed  as  the  most  promising  man  there.  I've  been 
looking  after  an  invention  of  mine,  that  I've  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  into  good  hands  in  Boston,  and 
that  will  probably  give  me  more  money  than  I  shall 
know  what  to  do  with.  Have  you  ever  thought  of 
parting  with  the  mills?" 

"  I  don't  believe  I  have,  Mr.  Hawberk,"  Lang- 
brith  responded. 

"If  you  ever  do,"  Hawberk  said,  "let  me  know. 
I've  had  an  idea  of  taking  them  over,  lately,  and 
the  income  from  this  invention  of  mine  will  enable 
me  to  run  them  as  they  should  be  run.  Your  father 
and  I  were  pretty  close  together  in  their  manage 
ment,  at  the  outset,  you  know." 

"Yes,"  Langbrith  assented,  while  he  retired  a 
few  steps  from  the  gate,  on  which  Hawberk  was 
now  lounging.  In  the  moonlight,  Hawberk' s  face 
had  a  greenish  hue,  and  his  eyes  shone  vitreously. 

"  There  is  something  fine  about  these  gloomy  au 
tumn  nights,"  he  suggested.  "  I  sold  him  the  mills, 
you  recollect,  and  it  would  be  sort  of  evening  things 

62 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

up  if  you  sold  them  back  to  me.  Yes,  your  father 
and  I  were  great  friends.  He  liked  to  go  off  with 
me  in  my  yacht.  We  made  the  trip  to  the  Azores, 
together.  I  think  I  was  the  first  to  own  a  steam- 
yacht  in  Boston.  I  lived  most  of  the  time  in  Boston, 
then:  looked  after  the  city  end  of  the  business. 
Often  had  your  father  down.  I  was  always  giving 
dinners,  and  he  used  to  enjoy  them.  You  and  Hope 
been  at  the  play?  Fine  company,  I'm  told.  Pity 
we  don't  get  them  oftener  in  Saxmills." 

"Ah — I  think  I  must  say  good  night,  Mr.  Haw- 
berk."  Langbrith  moved  a  little  farther  away, 
backing.  "  It's  rather  late—" 

"Is  it?"  Hawberk  took  out  his  watch  and  held 
it  up  to  the  moonlight.  "Why,  so  it  is!  Nearly 
morning.  Well,  good-night."  He  did  not  offer  to 
leave  the  gate,  but  remained  lounging  across  it, 
while  Langbrith  turned  and  moved  down  the  foot 
path  towards  the  village. 


X 

IN  the  morning,  the  dissatisfactions  which  are  apt 
to  qualify  the  satisfactions  of  the  night  before  made 
themselves  felt  in  Langbrith.  He  had  wanted  to 
talk  the  satisfactions  over  with  Falk,  whom  he  found 
in  bed,  on  his  return  from  seeing  Hope  Hawberk 
home,  with  the  disaster  of  meeting  her  father;  but 
Falk  was  either  sleepy  from  the  fatigues  of  the  even 
ing,  or  cynical  from  the  excess  of  its  pleasures,  and 
would  not  talk.  He  met  Langbrith's  overtures  to 
a  confidence  with  a  prayer  for  rest,  with  a  counsel 
of  forgetting,  with  an  aspiration  for  help  in  his  ex 
tremity  against  him  from  the  powers  which  he  did 
not  often  invoke.  Langbrith  was  obliged  to  go  to 
bed  himself,  without  the  light  of  Falk's  mind  on  the 
things  which  kept  him  turning  from  side  to  side  till 
well  towards  morning.  Then  he  slept  so  briefly  that 
he  woke  to  hear  Falk  still  asleep  in  the  next  room, 
and  went  down  alone  to  his  breakfast. 

He  found  his  mother  in  the  library  ready  to  join 
him,  and  he  said,  rather  crossly,  that  they  would 
not  wait  for  Falk,  who  would  anyway  not  want 
anything  but  coffee.  At  first,  it  seemed  as  if  he 
would  himself  not  want  anything  else,  but  after  he 
had  drunk  a  cup  he  helped  himself  to  the  steak  which 
his  mother  refused,  and  then  to  the  rice-cakes,  which 

64 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Norah  brought  in  relays,  till  he  said,  "I  sha'n't 
want  any  more,  Norah,"  and  then  she  ceased  to 
bring  them,  and  shut  the  door  into  the  kitchen 
definitely  after  her  in  going  out. 

If  Mrs.  Langbrith  expected  her  son  to  begin  by 
saying  something  of  the  pleasure  she  had  tried  to 
give  him  the  night  before,  she  was  destined  to  dis 
appointment,  less,  perhaps,  from  his  ingratitude 
than  from  his  preoccupation.  "  Mother,"  he  asked, 
in  pouring  the  syrup  over  the  last  relay  of  cakes 
that  Norah  had  brought,  "do  you  know  whether 
there  was  ever  anything  unpleasant  between  Dr. 
Anther  and  my  father?" 

She  caught  her  breath  in  a  way  that  was  habitual 
with  her  at  any  sort  of  abruptness,  and  had  a  mo 
ment  of  hesitation  in  which  she  might  have  been 
deciding  what  form  of  evasion  she  should  employ. 
Then  she  asked,  "Why,  James,  what  made  you 
think  so?" 

"Something — nothing— that  happened,  or  didn't 
happen,  last  night,  after  you  left  us  smoking  in  the 
dining-room."  Langbrith  frowned,  in  what  was 
resentment  or  what  was  perplexity.  "It  might 
have  been  my  fancy,  altogether.  But  he  seemed 
to  receive  a  suggestion  I  made  very  dryly,  very 
coldly.  I  had  always  supposed  they  were  great 
friends." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  quelled  her  respiration  into  long, 
smooth  under-breaths,  and  said  nothing. 

Langbrith  went  on.  "I  had  been  thinking  of 
something  I  meant  to  mention  to  you  first — putting 
up  a  medallion  of  my  father,  with  some  sort  of  in- 

65 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

scription,  in  the  fagade  of  the  library,  and  last  night 
I  happened  to  come  out  with  the  notion  in  the  course 
of  some  general  talk,  and  Dr.  Anther  received  it  so 
blankly  that  I  couldn't  help  feeling  a  little  hurt." 

"Perhaps,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  said,  with  a  drop  of 
her  eyes,  "he  didn't  take  it  in." 

"That  was  what  I  have  been  trying  to  think. 
People  began  to  come  for  the  dance  just  after  that, 
and  the  subject  couldn't  go  any  further.  But,  be 
fore  Judge  Garley  and  Mr.  Enderby,  Dr.  Anther's 
blankness  had  time  to  be  painful.  Well!"  he  broke 
off  from  the  affair.  "  He  may  not  have  taken  it  in, 
as  you  say." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  rubbed  her  hand  nervously  up 
and  down  on  the  smooth,  warm  handle  of  the  coffee 
pot,  in  the  struggle  with  herself,  rather  than  with 
her  son,  which  was  renewed  whenever  it  came  to 
any  sort  of  question  of  his  father  between  them. 
She  was  long  past  the  superstition  of  her  husband's 
right,  through  the  mere  fact  of  his  death,  to  her 
silence,  her  forbearance.  Except  for  their  son,  she 
would  have  been  willing  that  he  should  be  known 
to  the  world  as  he  was  known  to  her  and  to  Anther. 
But  with  reference  to  the  dead  man's  son,  it  still 
seemed  to  her  that  the  truth  would  be  defamation, 
as  much  as  if  his  memory  were  really  pure  and  holy. 
It  always  came  to  some  sort  of  evasion.  But  this 
morning,  somehow,  it  did  not  seem  to  her  as  if  she 
could  consent  to  that  any  longer.  It  was  on  her 
tongue  to  say,  No,  his  father  and  Dr.  Anther  were 
not  friends  at  last,  and  give,  swiftly  and  unsparing 
ly,  the  reasons  why  they  could  not  be.  But  when 

66 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

she  spoke,  she  got  no  further  than  saying,  and  it 
was  with  tremendous  effect  that  she  got  so  far  from 
her  wonted  reserve,  "If  you  think  there  was  ever 
anything  unpleasant  between  them,  why  don't  you 
ask  Dr.  Anther  himself?" 

There  was  a  desperate  challenge  in  her  eyes, 
which  she  would  have  been  miserably  glad  to  have 
him  see  there,  if  only  some  counter  of  his  would 
then  push  her  past  the  silence  which  she  could  never 
traverse  of  herself  alone.  But  he  was  looking  down 
into  his  cup,  and  he  did  not  see  what  was  in  her 
eyes.  He  stirred  his  coffee,  and  said:  "It  was  not 
serious  enough  for  that.  Very  likely  it  wasn't  any 
thing  at  all.  He  may  not  have  been  giving  the  mat 
ter  close  attention,  or  he  may  have  had  something 
else  on  his  mind.  Doctors  often  have,  I  suppose; 
or  he  may  have  been  vexed  at  something  in  my 
manner — what  Falk  calls  my  patronizing.  Possibly 
he  was  thinking  from  his  knowledge  of  my  father 
that  such  a  thing  would  be  distasteful  to  him.  But 
he  might  have  left  it  all  to  me.  Well,  it  doesn't 
really  amount  to  anything." 

She  drew  a  long,  deep  breath,  in  the  desperate  re 
lief  of  postponement,  and  he  looked  up  affection 
ately.  "  It's  all  a  very  old  story  for  you,  mother, 
and  you  can't  'take  much  pleasure  in  knowing  how 
the  evening  went  off.  You  did  manage  it  wonder 
fully." 

She  flushed  at  his  praise.  "  I  tried  to  carry  out 
your  instructions." 

"You  bettered  them.  It  was  a  great  little  tri 
umph.  Don't  you  think  people  enjoyed  it?" 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Yes,  I  think  so.  But  if  you  enjoyed  it,  that  is 
quite  enough  for  me." 

"Oh,  for  you,  mother!  But  I'm  unselfish  enough 
for  you  to  wish  the  rest  had  a  good  time.  I  thought 
the  girls  all  looked  very  pretty,  and  they  behaved 
prettily,  too,  which  doesn't  always  follow.  Country 
girls — village  girls — don't  always  know  the  differ 
ence  between  being  lively  and  being  rowdy.  I'm 
bound  to  say  that  sometimes  city  girls  don't  either. 
The  latest  blossoming  of  buds  in  Boston — well! 
Don't  you  think  Hope  is  very  beautiful?'* 

He  seemed  quite  in  good  humor,  now,  and  was 
smiling  retrospectively.  His  mother  said,  from 
that  remote  caution,  doubtless,  which  is  in  every 
woman  where  her  son's  relations  with  other  women 
are  concerned,  "She  is  a  very  good  girl." 

Langbrith  laughed  out.  "Well,  I  wasn't  think 
ing  about  the  goodness,  exactly!  But  I  dare  say 
she  is  good.  What  I'm  sure  of,  though,  is  that 
she's  stunning.  Mother!" 

"Well,  James?" 

Langbrith 's  face,  so  like  her  own  face,  in  its  con 
tour  and  features,  flushed  as  hers  always  did  with 
any  strong  feeling ;  but  whatever  his  feeling  was,  he 
did  not  put  it  into  the  words  which  followed  as  from 
a  second  impulse.  He  gave  himself  time  to  lose  his 
flush,  and  to  knit  his  brows,  which  approached  very 
nearly  together,  before  he  asked,  "  How  long  has  her 
father  been  an  opium  fiend?  I  mean,  how  long 
have  people  known  that  he  eats  opium?" 

"A  good  many  years,  I'm  afraid." 

"As  long  back  as  to  my  father's  time?" 

68 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Yes — quite.     Why,  what  makes  you  ask?" 

"Oh,  I  saw  him  last  night  when  I  went  home 
with  Hope." 

"I  thought  he  was  away  at  the  Retreat." 

"  It  seems  not.  At  any  rate,  he  was  at  home,  and 
she  didn't  seem  surprised  at  his  being  there.  It 
isn't  like  alcoholism,  is  it?  It  doesn't  make  him 
violent?  So  that  he  ever  hurts  them?" 

" Oh  no,  not  at  all.     Did  Hope  seem  troubled?" 

"No.  She  slipped  into  the  house  behind  him, 
when  he  came  out  to  the  gate  to  talk  to  me.  He 
was  disposed  to  be  rather  expansive.  Just  in  what 
way  do  you  understand  that  he  has  been  an  afflic 
tion  to  them?" 

"He  has  kept  them  poor." 

"  Well,  that  might  be  remedied.  And  it  isn't  the 
worst  thing  that  could  happen.  A  great  many  peo 
ple  are  poor  and  happy.  You  don't  mean  that 
they're  ever  in  anything  like  want?" 

"Oh  no,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  sighed.  "He  has  some 
of  his  inventions  in  the  hands  of  other  people,  who 
pay  him  a  percentage  on  them,  and  it  is  secured  so 
that  it  goes  to  his  family,  instead  of  to  him.  The 
worst  of  him  is  that  they  can't  put  the  least  de 
pendence  on  him.  They  can't  trust  anything  he 
'says.  He  is  very  kind  to  them  when  he  is  with 
them,  and  he  is  proud  of  Hope.  But  they  can't 
[believe  a  word  from  him." 

"  He  got  off  twenty  inventions  to  me,  in  as  many 
sentences,  while  we  stood  talking  over  the  gate.  I 
had  a  notion  of  something  of  the  kind  you  say. 
Doesn't  he  ever  blunder  into  the  truth?  He  said 

69 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

my  father  and  he  used  to  be  great  chums.     Was 
there  nothing  in  that?" 

"They  were  friends  at  one  time,  certainly." 

"Until  he  began  to  give  way  to  all  kinds  of  in 
vention.  Then,  of  course,  it  had  to  come  to  an  end. 
Well,  it's  interesting  to  know  that  he  can  sometimes 
make  a  straight  statement.  Don't  think  I  don't  feel 
the  awfulness  of  it,  mother.  I  do,  and  I  pity  Hope, 
and  I  can  understand  how  she  can't  help  thinking 
that  she  is  put  wrong  by  it  with — people.  I  sup 
pose  it's  that  that  makes  her  a  little  defiant,  a  little 
doubtful  of —  Have  you  ever,  or  has  she  ever,  men 
tioned  the  subject?" 

"  Not  to  me,  James,  or  to  any  one  that  I  know  of. 
Everybody  knows  it.  It's  an  old  thing,  and  no 
body  talks  of  it,  except  new-comers.  And  there 
are  not  many  new-comers  here." 

"No,"  Langbrith  assented,  with  a  smile.  "Sax- 
mills  is  static." 

His  mother  may  not  have  known  just  what  he 
meant,  or  it  may  have  been  from  the  country  habit 
of  making  no  comment  in  response  to  what  was  not 
a  question.  She  asked,  "Will  you  have  some  more 
coffee,  James?" 

"No;  but  have  them  keep  it  hot  for  old  Falk." 

"  I  will  have  some  fresh  for  him." 

"  There  never  was  such  thoughtful  hospitality  as 
yours,  mother,"  Langbrith  said,  rising  and  going 
round  the  table  to  where  she  had  risen  too,  and  put 
ting  his  arm  fondly  across  her  shoulders.  She  was 
almost  as  tall  as  he,  and  their  likeness  showed  as  he 
laid  his  face  against  hers  and  rubbed  his  cheek  on 

70 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

her  own.  "  I  believe  that  when  I  wake  up  in  the 
other  world  you  will  be  there  to  offer  me  something 
nice  to  eat.  Old  Falk  is  having  a  tremendously 
good  time,  don't  you  think?" 

Mrs.  Langbrith  said,  "Everything  has  been  done 
for  him  that  could  be,  by  everybody." 

"And  I'm  glad  it's  happened  to  Falk,  too.  A 
great  many  of  the  fellows  don't  know  what  a  good 
fellow  he  is.  They  don't  get  hold  of  him.  Falk 
is  proud,  and  that  makes  him  shy.  Last  year  I 
wouldn't  have  thought  of  bringing  him  here,  or 
getting  him  to  come  here.  His  people  out  in 
Kentucky  are  Germans,  and  they've  always  gone 
with  the  Germans.  If  Falk  hadn't  come  to  Har 
vard,  he  never  would  have  got  into  American  so 
ciety.  Fellows  from  out  that  way,  where  the  Ger 
mans  are  rather  thick,  say  that  the  third  generation 
gets  in,  and  sometimes  the  second  if  the  first  has 
got  rich.  But  Falk's  father  is  only  a  very  musical 
doctor  with  a  German  practice,  and  no  social  in 
stincts  or  aspirations.  Of  course,  it's  Falk's  work 
in  Caricature  that's  brought  him  forward  with  the 
best  fellows.  He's  going  to  be  a  great  artist,  I  be 
lieve,  and  I  want  to  have  a  hand  in  helping  him.  It's 
difficult.  He  would  rather  say  a  nasty  thing  than  a 
nice  thing  to  you,  and  that  doesn't  cement  friend 
ship  with  everybody.  But  the  way  is  not  to  mind 
it.  He's  all  right  at  heart,  if  he  wasn't  so  proud." 

11 1  don't  think  it's  very  polite,"  Mrs.  Langbrith 
ventured. 

"Well,  no,"  her  son  owned,  "but  it's  better  than 
being  slimy." 


XI 

LANGBRITH  and  his  friend  took  the  Northern  Ex 
press  in  the  afternoon,  which  would  bring  them  to 
Boston  just  in  time  for  dinner.  Mrs.  Langbrith 
gave  them  such  a  heavy  lunch  that,  what  with  the 
sleep  they  had  still  to  make  up  from  the  night  be 
fore,  they  drowsed  half  the  way  to  town  in  the 
smoking-car,  which  they  had  to  themselves  until 
the  train  began  to  stop  at  the  suburban  stations. 
Before  this  happened  they  woke,  and  Falk  took  a 
sheet  of  crumpled  paper  from  his  pocket,  and  spread 
it  on  the  little  stationary  table  between  them  which 
the  commuters  used  for  playing  cards. 

"  How  would  that  do  for  the  next  cartoon?"  he 
asked. 

He  pushed  it  towards  Langbrith,  who  smoothed 
it  out  again,  and  examined  it  carefully.  "  I  don't 
know  what  it  means,"  he  said,  at  last. 

"  Neither  do  I,"  Falk  said.  "  I  want  you  to  joke 
it,  so  that  I  shall." 

Langbrith  continued  to  look  at  the  drawing,  but 
apparently  with  less  and  less  consciousness  of  it. 
He  returned  to  it  in  pushing  it  away.  "  I  don't 
know  that  I  feel  much  like  joking,  to-day." 

Falk  crumpled  the  drawing  up  in  his  hand  and 
threw  it  on  the  floor.  ''There  oughtn't  to  be  any 

72 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

to-morrows.  There  ought  to  be  nothing  but  yes 
terdays.  Then  we  could  manage." 

1  'What  do  you  mean?"  Langbrith  demanded. 

"  You  're  thinking  you  went  too  far." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"I  saw  you  going." 

They  were  silent,  and  then  Langbrith  said,  with  a 
laugh,  "Well,  if  I  went  too  far,  I  wasn't  met  half 
way." 

"He  laughs  bitterly,"  Falk  interpreted.  "He 
has  got  his  come-uppings." 

Langbrith  looked  angrily  at  him.  Then  his  look 
softened,  if  that  is  the  word,  into  something  more 
like  sulking  than  anger,  and  he  said,  "Sometimes  I 
think  you  hate  me,  Falk." 

"  No,  you  don't.  You  merely  think  you  deserve 
it.  What  have  you  been  doing  ?  You  might  as  well 
out  with  it  now  as  later;  I  don't  want  you  coming 
in  to-night  when  I've  got  into  my  first  sleep." 

"If  I  could  only  hope  to  make  you  understand!" 
Langbrith  sighed .  "It  isn't  merely  our  having  known 
each  other  since  she  and  I  were  kids,  and  always 
been  more  or  less  together.  And  it  isn't  the  country 
freedom  between  fellows  and  girls.  You  could  ap 
preciate  both  those  things.  But  you're  so  con 
foundedly  hard  that  you  wouldn't  see  why  I  should 
feel  a  peculiar  tenderness — a  kind  of  longing  to 
shield  her  and  save  her:  I  don't  know! — when  I 
think  of  her  home  life,  and  what  it  must  be.  I 
know  what  a  brave  fight  she  puts  up  against  its 
seeming  any  way  anomalous,  and  that  makes  her 
all  the  more  pathetic.  It  makes  her  all  the  more 

73 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

fascinating — to  a  man  of  my  temperament.  She 
knows  that,  and  that  is  why  she  is  so  defiant.  I 
never  "knew  she  was  so  beautiful  till  this  time. 
Weren't  you  struck  with  it  yourself,  Falk?" 

Falk  nodded,  and  smoked  on. 

"The  complication  of  qualities  in  her,  and  the 
complication  of  her  conditions,  are  what  make  it 
impossible  to  decide  whether  one  has  gone  too  far 
or  not.  Her  way  of  taking  it  doesn't  help  you  out 
a  bit.  She  takes  everything  as  if  you  didn't  mean 
it.  Of  course,  she  knows  that  I'm  in  love  with  her. 
Everything  I  do  tells  her  so,  and  so  long  as  it  isn't 
put  into  words,  it  seems  all  right.  But  when  it 
comes  to  words,  she  won't  stand  it." 

"  She  threw  you  down  ?     Is  that  it  ?" 

Langbrith  frowned,  and  then  smiled,  as  if  forgiv 
ing  the  slang  that  might  well  have  offended  against 
the  dignity  of  the  fact.  He  even  adopted  it.  "  Not 
just  threw  me  down,  I  should  say." 

"What  happened,  then?'1 

"Nothing.  But  I  was  in  the  mood  for  making 
her  answer  something  more  than  she  would  answer, 
and  I  shouldn't  have  left  her  without,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  her  father  coming  on  the  scene.  He  was 
an  element  that  I  hadn't  counted  on,  and  he  made 
the  whole  thing  luridly  impossible.  He  seemed  to 
cast  the  malign  shadow  of  his  own  perdition  over 
her." 

"Good  phrase,"  Falk  murmured. 

"Oh,  don't  mock  me,  old  fellow!"  Langbrith  im 
plored.  "Of  course,  his  being  what  he  is  wouldn't 
make  me  give  her  up,  though  I  believe  it  would 

74 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

make  her  give  me  up.  Poor  wretch!  You  can't 
think  how  amusing  he  was,  with  the  wild  romances 
he  got  off  to  me  by  the  dozen  in  the  two  or  three 
minutes  we  talked  together.  Do  you  remember 
that  wonderful  liar  in  one  of  Thackeray's  stories,  or 
sketches,  who  says  he  has  just  come  from  the  Rus 
sian  embassy  in  London,  where  he  had  seen  a  Rus 
sian  princess  knouted  by  secret  orders  of  the  Czar? 
It  was  something  like  that.  That  fellow  must  have 
been  an  opium-eater,  too.  One  good  thing  about 
it,"  Langbrith  resumed,  after  a  pause  not  broken  by 
Falk,  "  my  mother  thinks  the  world  of  Hope.  She's 
always  having  her  at  the  house,  when  she  will  come. 
I  think  she  does  it  because  my  father  was  his  friend 
in  his  better  days,  and  she  feels  that  he  would  like 
to  have  her  do  it.  She  is  just  so  loyal  to  his  mem 
ory.  If  she  could  imagine  any  wish  for  him,  now, 
after  twenty  years,  I  believe  she  would  want  to 
carry  it  out,  the  same  as  if  he  were  alive." 

Falk  still  said  nothing,  and  Langbrith  broke  off 
to  say,  "There  was  something  that  gravelled  me 
last  night,  a  little.  I  don't  know  whether  you  no 
ticed  it." 

"What  was  it?" 

"Well,  Dr.  Anther's  snubbing  way  of  meeting 
what  I  said  of  that  medallion  of  my  father  which  I 
suggested  for  the  public  library.  It  embarrassed 
me  before  the  judge  and  Dr.  Enderby ;  it  made  me 
feel  like  a  fool.  He  had  no  business  to  do  it.  But, 
perhaps,  he  was  merely  not  noticing.  All  the  same, 
I'm  going  to  do  it.  I  think  it's  a  shame  that  in  a 
place  which  a  man  has  done  so  much  for  as  my 

75 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

father  did  for  Saxmills  there  shouldn't  be  any  pub 
lic  record  of  him.  I'll  do  it  to  show  them  they 
ought  to  have  done  it  themselves,  if  for  nothing 
else.  But  I  know  all  this  bores  you,"  Langbrith 
ended,  vexed  with  his  evident  failure  to  interest  his 
friend. 

Falk  yawned,  but  he  said,  with  more  than  the 
usual  scanty  kindness  he  showed  for  the  wounds  of 
Langbrith's  vanity,  "No,  no,  I'm  just  stupid  from 
last  night.  One  doesn't  have  such  a  good  time  for 
nothing." 

"  It  was  a  good  time,  wasn't  it?"  Langbrith  grate 
fully  exulted. 

Falk  said,  "Fine."  He  yawned  again,  and  Lang 
brith  lapsed  into  a  smiling  muse,  in  which  he  was 
climbing  the  hill  with  Hope  Hawberk,  flattered  in 
the  fondness  she  suffered  him  to  show  her,  and  sweet 
ly  contraried  by  her  refusal  to  say  the  words  which 
would  have  sealed  the  bond  between  them.  Was  it, 
he  wondered,  with  a  swelling  throat,  because  she 
wished  to  let  him  feel  himself  wholly  free,  in  the 
event  of  some  disgrace  or  disaster  to  herself  from 
her  father  ?  He  would  live  to  prove  that  he  would 
not  be  free:  that  he  was  hers  as  she  was  his,  and 
nothing  on  earth  could  part  them.  That  would 
make  right,  it  would  consecrate,  all  his  past  love- 
making.  Once  he  would  have  thought  that  no 
harm,  if  it  had  come  to  nothing.  But  now,  in  his 
knowledge  of  another  world,  with  a  different  code, 
it  was  not  to  be  thought  of  but  as  part  of  a  com 
mon  future  for  them  which  it  began.  He  wanted 
to  put  the  case  concretely  before  Falk,  but  he 

76 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

could  not.  He  could  not  generalize,  as  he  would 
have  liked  to  do,  on  that  difference  of  code  be 
tween  city  and  country,  with  the  risk  of  Falk's 
making  his  abstractions  concrete  in  some  such  way 
as  only  a  blow  could  answer.  Falk  had  his  limi 
tations.  After  all,  he  was  only  half  an  American, 
and  he  could  only  half  understand  an  American's 
feelings.  He  retreated  from  the  temptation,  and 
lost  himself  in  a  warm  revery  of  the  future,  which 
he  forecast  in  defiance  of  every  obstacle. 

He  thought  what  friends  Hope  and  his  mother 
had  always  been,  and  he  knew  that  there  could  be 
nothing  but  glad  response  in  his  mother's  heart  to 
the  feeling  that  was  in  his  for  Hope.  Then  he  began 
to  think  o£  his  mother  apart  from  Hope,  and  of  what 
she  might  have  been  like  when  she  was  a  girl.  She 
was  younger  even  than  Hope  when  she  was  mar 
ried.  She  had  been  many  more  years  a  widow  than 
a  maid ;  and,  in  the  light  of  his  own  love  for  Hope, 
he  wondered  if  his  mother  had  ever  thought  of 
marrying  again.  His  father  had  been  twice  her 
age  when  he  married  her.  Langbrith  knew  this  in 
the  casual  way  in  which  children  know  something 
of  their  parents'  history,  and  his  father  must  have 
been  an  uncommon  man  to  have  won  her  with  that 
difference  of  years  between  them,  and  to  have  kept 
her  constant  to  his  memory  so  many  years  after  his 
death.  After  all,  how  little  she  had  ever  said  of 
him!  Langbrith  romanced  her  as  not  being  able, 
from  deep  feeling,  from  a  grief  ever  new,  to  speak 
of  him,  and  he  ached  at  heart  to  think  how  his 
father's  personality  seemed  buried  in  his  grave  with 

77 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

his  body.  A  tender,  chivalrous  longing  to  cham 
pion  his  forgotten  father,  to  rehabilitate  this  van 
ished  personality,  replaced  his  heartache,  and  again 
he  was  indignant  with  Dr.  Anther  for  his  indiffer 
ence,  his  coldness.  He  said  to  himself  that  he  must 
have  an  explanation  from  Dr.  Anther;  he  would 
write  to  him,  and  ask  just  what  he  meant.  Perhaps 
he  meant  nothing.  But  he  must  be  sure.  Then 
he  would  see  that  young  sculptor,  that  Italian,  and 
tell  him  what  he  wanted ;  talk  it  over  with  him ;  find 
if  he  had  any  notions  of  his  own. 

The  train  slowed  into  the  North  station  about 
five  o'clock,  just  when  he  knew  his  mother  would  be 
talking  with  old  Norah  about  the  supper,  to  which, 
in  his  absence,  she  would  revert  from  the  late  din 
ner.  She  would  be  bidding  Norah  tell  the  cook 
that  she  did  not  want  anything  but  a  cup  of  tea 
and  a  little  milk-toast.  Poor  old  mother!  What 
a  savorless,  limp  life  she  lived  there  alone!  Yet  it 
could  not  be  otherwise,  when  he  was  away.  How 
much  she  depended  upon  him!  Somehow,  he  must 
manage  for  her  to  live  with  Hope  and  him.  She 
must  go  out  to  Paris  with  them,  where  they  should 
go  after  their  marriage,  and  when  they  came  back 
to  Saxmills,  where  they  would  always  have  their 
summer  home,  she  must  be  put  back  mistress  in 
the  old  house. 


XII 

THE  neighbor  over  the  way  who  saw  Anther  drop 
the  hitching-weight  of  his  buggy  in  front  of  the 
Langbrith  house,  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  length 
ening  April  day,  decided  that  Mrs.  Langbrith  had 
been  overdoing.  She  watched  for  him  to  come  out 
until  she  could  stay  no  longer  at  the  window  with 
out  making  her  own  tea  late,  but  she  did  not  see 
him  come  out  at  all. 

In  fact,  it  was  the  doctor  who  appeared  to  have 
been  overdoing.  He  looked  so  tired  to  Mrs.  Lang 
brith  that  she  asked  him  if  he  would  not  have  a 
cup  of  tea.  Upon  second  thought,  she  asked  him 
if  he  would  not  have  it  with  her.  Supper  would  be 
ready  very  soon ;  and,  without  waiting  for  a  refusal, 
she  went  into  the  kitchen  to  hurry  it,  and  to  have 
the  cook  add  something  to  the  milk-toast  for  the 
man-appetite,  to  which  her  hospitality  was  minis 
tering  with  more  impulsiveness  and  spontaneity 
than  the  wont  of  village  hospitality  is. 

When  they  sat  down  together  at  the  table,  he 
did  not  eat  much  and  he  talked  little ;  but  he  seemed 
to  feel  gratefully  the  comfort  of  the  place  and  pres 
ence.  She  came  into  authority  with  him,  as  a  wom 
an  does  when  the  man  dear  to  her  is  depressed.  Her 
affection  for  him  came  out  in  little  suggestions  and 

79 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Insistencies  about  the  food.  Like  most  physicians, 
he  kept  his  precepts  for  himself  and  his  practices 
for  his  patients.  He  now  ate  rather  recklessly,  and 
he  preferred  the  unwholesome  things.  At  first  she 
had  to  press  him,  and  then  she  had  to  check  him. 
At  last  she  had  to  say  tc  Norah,  who  came  in  with 
successive  plates  of  the  hot  cakes  which  he  devoured, 
"That  will  do,  Norah,"  and,  when  he  had  swept 
the  final  batch  upon  his  plate  and  soaked  them  in 
butter  and  syrup,  and  then  cut  their  layers  into 
deep  vertical  sections,  and  gorged  these  with  a  kind 
of  absent  gluttony,  while  she  looked  on  in  patient 
amaze,  she  rose  and  led  the  way  from  the  table  into 
the  parlor. 

It  lay  beyond  the  library  and  had  windows  to  the 
north  and  east.  The  library  was  lighted  from  the 
east  alone,  like  the  dining-room  in  the  wing.  The 
main  house  was  square,  and  divided  by  an  ample 
hall  from  front  to  back.  Beyond  the  hall,  the  two 
drawing-rooms  opening  from  it  balanced  the  parlor 
and  library.  There  was  a  fire  of  logs  burning  on  the 
parlor  hearth,  and  its  glow  alone  lighted  the  place 
when  the  two  came  into  it.  He  went  first  to  the 
window  and  looked  at  his  horse.  When  he  came 
away  she  pulled  down  the  curtains  and  shut  out 
what  was  left  of  the  pale  day  and  the  disappoint 
ment  of  the  neighbor  who  had  been  waiting  for  the 
reappearance  of  the  persons  of  a  drama  not  played 
for  her. 

Mrs.  Langbrith  took  the  chair  at  the  corner,  and 
invited  Anther  to  the  deeper  one  in  front  of  the 
fire  by  her  action. 

80 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I  oughtn't  to  stay,"  he  said,  looking  at  his 
watch.  But  he  sat  down.  Neither  of  them  made 
haste  to  take  up  any  talk  for  the  entertainment  of 
the  other.  What  they  were  to  say  was  to  come 
because  they  were  both  thinking  the  same  things, 
from  interests  that  were  no  longer  separable.  Yet 
he  began  with  as  great  apparent  remoteness  as  pos 
sible  from  their  common  interests.  "Hawberk  is 
at  home  again,"  he  said,  as  if  that  followed  from  his 
saying  he  ought  not  to  stay. 

4 'James  told  me,"  she  responded.  "He  saw  him 
last  night." 

"And  he  has  begun  again." 

"Yes,  I  knew  that  from  the  way  that  James  said 
he  talked.  It  doesn't  seem  much  use  his  ever 
going." 

"It  prolongs  his  life,  if  that's  any  use.  If  he 
hadn't  pulled  up  completely,  from  time  to  time,  he 
would  have  been  dead  ten  years  ago.  It  is  a  cu 
rious  case.  Mostly  they  keep  on  and  on,  till  they 
kill  themselves,  but  Hawberk  seems  disposed  to  see 
how  much  relief  can  be  got  out  of  it  with  the  least 
danger.  At  the  rate  he  is  going,  he  can  live  as  long 
as  anybody.  Of  course,  the  moral  effect  always 
follows  the  indulgence  of  a  morbid  appetite.  What 
did  he  say  to  James?" 

"He  just  told  him  some  of  his  wild  stories. 
He  boasted  of  being  Mr.  Langbrith's  greatest 
friend." 

"So  he  was,  in  a  kind  of  way.  An  involuntary 
friend,"  Anther  said,  with  a  smile.  She  smiled,  too, 
strangely  enough,  but  as  people  can  smile,  in  deal- 
Si 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ing  with  an  old  wrong  when  it  offers  an  ironical  as 
pect  to  them.  But  she  said,  "Sometimes  I  wish  it 
could  be  known  what  a  deadly  enemy  Mr.  Lang- 
brith  had  been  to  him.  Why  shouldn't  I  tell  it? 
I  ought  to  feel  guilty  for  not  telling  it.  He  robbed 
him,  as  much  as  if  he  had  taken  his  money  out  of 
his  pocket." 

"No  doubt  about  that;  and  once  it  might  have 
been  best  to  own  the  fact  publicly.  But  sometimes 
it  seems  to  me  that  time  is  past.  A  wrong  like  that 
seems  to  gather  a  force  that  enslaves  those  who 
have  done  nothing  worse  than  leave  it  unacknowl 
edged  through  a  good  motive.  You  haven't  been 
silent  for  your  own  sake." 

"  I  am  not  sure  it  hasn't  been  for  my  own  sake." 

"I  am." 

"I  wonder,"  she  said,  "that  Mr.  Hawberk  hasn't 
told  it  himself." 

"Well,  possibly,  he  thinks  that  it  wouldn't  be 
credited,  that  it  would  be  regarded  as  one  of  his 
wild  inventions;  that  is,  he  thinks  that  when  he  is 
in  his  soberer  moments.  When  he  is  under  the 
influence  of  the  drug,  he  likes  to  make  pleasing 
romances,  and  has  no  desire  to  mix  a  tragical  in 
gredient  in  them." 

"Then  Mr.  Langbrith  has  ruined  a  soul!" 

"Yes,"  Anther  admitted,  "he  has  done  some 
thing  like  that.  And  the  most  terrible  thing  is, 
that  he  holds  the  man  in  bondage  now  much  more 
securely  than  he  could  have  held  him  living.  If 
they  were  both  still  alive,  there  would  be  some 
means  of  righting  the  wrong  that  has  been  done. 

82 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Some  pressure  could  be  brought  upon  him  to  make 
him  do  Hawberk  justice." 

"  No,  no,  he  would  know  how  to  get  out  of  that." 
She  rose  and  closed  the  door  opening  into  the  li 
brary.  She  had  meant  to  do  it  quietly,  and  without 
self -betrayal ;  but,  in  the  nervous  stress  that  was 
on  her,  she  brought  it  to  with  a  clash,  and  then  she 
felt  obliged  to  explain:  "It  always  seems  as  if  it 
were  listening,"  and  Anther  knew  that  she  meant 
the  portrait  over  the  library  mantel. 

"At  any  rate,"  the  doctor  resumed,  "he  makes 
it  hard  for  you  to  do  him  justice  now.  You  do  the 
best  you  can,  and  perhaps  it  is  the  best  that  any 
one  could  do.  I  suppose  that  a  moralist,  like  En- 
derby,  for  instance,  would  say  that  the  secrecy 
which  Hawberk' s  misfortune  promotes  is  the  worst 
part  of  it.  You  pay  Hawberk  an  income  from  a 
stolen  invention,  and  he  goes  about  bragging  of  the 
inventions  which  he  has  in  the  hands  of  Boston 
capitalists.  Perhaps  it  is  not  even  possible  for 
him  to  tell  the  truth,  in  the  perversion  of  his  nature 
through  his  habit." 

"What  was  he  like  before  he  took  to  it,  Dr.  An 
ther?"  she  asked,  from  the  security  she  felt  in  shut 
ting  out  the  portrait.  "  I  know  that  he  took  it  up 
in  the  misery  he  felt  at  being  trapped  and  robbed, 
and  it  was  his  only  escape." 

"Do  you  mean,  whether  he  was  inclined  some 
such  way?" 

"  I  have  sometimes  wished  that  he  were." 

"He  may  have  been,"  the  doctor  mused.  "I 
knew  him  very  little  before  I  came  here.  But  there 

83 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

is  a  sort  of  crime,  isn't  there,  in  pushing  a  man  in 
the  direction  of  a  natural  propensity?  You  don't 
want  to  palliate  what  was  done?" 

1  'Mr.  Langbrith  was  capable  of  any  crime,"  she 
answered.  "Sometimes  I  have  to  shield  his  mem 
ory.  But  I  don't  wish  to  do  it  when  I  needn't. 
That  is  the  comfort,  the  rest,  of  talking  with  you. 
I  can't  tell  you  what  a  kind  of  awful  happiness  it  is 
to  say  out  to  you  the  things  I  cannot  say  to  any 
one  else.  You  will  think  I  am  crazy,  but  the  next 
greatest  happiness  I  have  is  in  hoping  that  his  fancy 
is  taken  with  her,  and  that  somehow  it  can  be  made 
up  to  them  in  that  way.  And  yet  there  is  a  ghastli- 
ness  in  that,  too,  that  is  awful." 

He  knew  that  now  she  was  talking  of  her  son  and 
of  Hawberk's  daughter.  When  she  added,  "  She 
ought  to  know,  at  least,"  he  said: 

"Oh,  everybody  ought  to  know.  But  it  is  no 
more  possible  for  her  to  be  told  than  for  any  one  else. 
I  should  be  glad  if  he  could  get  so  good  a  girl.  She 
is  a  beautiful  creature,  too,  as  well  as  good.  Well!" 

He  rose  from  his  chair,  but  from  hers  she  entreat 
ed  almost  unawares,  "  Oh,  don't  go!  Or,  I  oughtn't 
to  say  it!" 

"No,  Amelia,  you  oughtn't.  If  you  said  some 
thing  else,  I  need  never  go."  He  looked  at  her 
vSadly,  and  her  head  drooped.  "You  let  me  see  an 
image  of  home,  like  this,  and  then  you  take  it  from 
me.  Well!  I  must  submit.  Good-night."  He  put 
out  his  hand  to  her,  but  she  would  not  take  it. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his,  "  You  haven't  asked  me 
if  I  tried  to  speak  to  James.  I  didn't!" 

84 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I  knew  that." 

"Perhaps  I  should — perhaps  I  should  have  tried, 
this  morning,  when  we  were  alone,  if —  But  per 
haps  I  couldn't." 

"If  what?" 

"  If  he  hadn't  fancied  that  you  did  something  last 
night  that  showed  dislike  of  Mr.  Langbrith." 

"What  was  it  I  did?" 

"Something  in  the  way  you  received  his  sugges 
tion  of  the  memorial  tablet." 

"  Oh,  he  noticed  that  ?    Well,  I  couldn't  help  it." 

"I  know  you  couldn't.  Do  you  think  I  blame 
you?" 

"I  believe  we  don't  blame  each  other,  Amelia." 

"And  you  don't  feel  hard  towards  me  for  not 
trying?"  " 

"I  didn't  expect  you  to  try." 

"  But  why  shouldn't  we  go  on  like  this — the  way 
we  have  gone  on  for  twenty  years  ?  Why  shouldn't 
you  be  just  my  friend  as  long  as  you  live  ?  We  are 
not  young,  and  we  couldn't  expect  what  young  peo 
ple  expect  of  marriage." 

"I  expect  a  great  deal  more,"  he  said.  "You 
are  solitary,  and  so  am  I.  I  have  never  had  a  home, 
and  you  could  give  me  one.  I  have  never  had  com 
panionship  at  the  time  when  a  man  wants  it  most, 
and  you  could  be  my  companion.  I  want  some 
one  to  talk  to  and  to  be  silent  to,  when  I  feel  the 
need  of  either.  You  could  be  my  daughter,  my 
mother,  my  sister.  Why  do  you  make  me  say  these 
things  to  you?" 

"  Well,  then,  why  not  come  and  let  me  be  it  here  ? 

85 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Why  not  come  and  make  this  your  home  ?  I  know 
James  wouldn't  object.  I  believe  he  would  like  to 
have  you  live  with  us.  He  has  always  been  used 
to  you — "  Anther  shook  his  head. 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  persisted.  "We  could  give  you 
all  the  room  you  wanted  in  the  house  here,  and  you 
could  have  Mr.  Langbrith's  office  for  your  office, 
out  there  by  the  gate.  I  have  thought  how  it  could 
be  done— 

"  It  couldn't  be  done,  Amelia.  The  talk  it  would 
make  in  a  place  like  Saxmills!" 

"There  wouldn't  be  any  talk.  You  have  been 
here  so  long,  and  you  are  so  respected.  You  have 
always  been  our  doctor,  and  you  have  been  in  and 
out  here  day  and  night.  You  are  like  one  of  the 
family.  You  could  come  now,  when  Mrs.  Burwell 
is  going  to  give  up  her  house,  and  you  will  have  to 
go  somewhere  else,  anyhow.  It  hasn't  made  talk 
your  living  there  with  her  all  these  years,  and  why 
should  your  living  here  do  it  ?  Sit  down  now,  and 
let  me  tell  you — 

She  had  put  her  hand  unconsciously  on  his  arm 
and  was  nervously  pinching  the  sleeve.  He  took 
her  hand  away  and  held  it  in  his  own.  "  I  never 
think  of  Mrs.  Burwell,  nor  she  of  me;  but  we 
two  would  always  be  thinking  of  each  other.  It 
wouldn't  do,  my  dear,  and  you  know  it." 

She  broke  out  piteously,  "  I  am  so  afraid  of  James !" 

"Yes,  I  understand  that,  and  I  should  be  afraid 
of  him,  too,  if  I  came  here  to  live  with  you,  unless  I 
came  as  your  husband.  In  that  case,  I  shouldn't 
be  afraid  of  him." 

86 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Ah,  you  hate  him !  I  can  see  it  by  the  way  you 
say  that.  What  shall  I  do?" 

"  Nothing,  Amelia,  except  be  reasonable.  I  don't 
hate  your  son ;  how  could  I  ?  Of  course,  your  fear 
of  him  stands  in  our  way,  but  I  am  not  at  all  sure 
that  he  does.  He  might  have  done  so,  a  few  years 
ago,  but  there  is  less  probability  that  he  would  now." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"He  is  more  rational.  He  is  of  a  nature  that 
matures  late ;  he  is  like  you,  in  that,  Amelia.  That 
friend  of  his,  that  young  man,  told  me  how  slowly 
James  has  won  upon  the  liking  and  understanding 
of  his  college  mates.  They  did  not  like  him  at  first, 
but  now,  in  his  last  year,  they  are  beginning  to  value 
him,  to  make  allowances  for  what  repelled  them,  to 
see  how  he  has  changed,  and  to  have  an  affection 
for  him."  In  his  gloss  of  Falk's  laconic  terms, 
Anther  did  not  feel  that  he  was  misinterpreting  his 
statement  of  Langbrith's  Harvard  standing;  his 
mother  eagerly  accepted  the  version,  and  imagined 
it  insufficient.  "I  say  this,"  the  doctor  went  on, 
"merely  to  illustrate  my  meaning.  He  is  now  at 
the  age  when  the  mind  acts  with  an  insight  unknown 
to  it  before,  and  besides—  Anther  broke  off,  and 
then  asked,  after  a  moment:  "What  reason  have 
you  for  thinking  that  he  is  seriously  taken  with 
Hope?  How  is  it  different  with  them  from  what 
it  has  always  been?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  it  is  his  being  away,  and 
then  coming  back  and  finding  her  changed  into  a 
new  person.  Girls  change  so  suddenly  at  her  age. 
If  he  had  stayed  at  home,  they  might  have  gone 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

on  being  boy  and  girl  together  always.  But  as  it 
is —  Perhaps  it  is  partly  the  way  I  have  seen  him 
look  at  her — with  a  kind  of  surprise.  And  this 
morning,  he  spoke  of  her  with  so  much —  Oh,  if 
it  only  could  be,  what  a  load  it  would  take  off  my 
heart!" 

"It  would  take  the  main  obstacle  out  of  our 
path,  too,"  Anther  responded.  "He  would  judge 
you  somewhat  more  from  himself." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  colored  faintly,  with  a  kind  of 
shame,  which  he  saw  and  resented. 

"You  think  it  isn't  the  same  thing!" 

"No,"  she  owned.  "How  could  I?  It  is  as 
right  for  us,  though  it  is  different,  as  it  is  for  them. 
But—" 

She  stopped,  and  even  after  he  had  said,  "Well?" 
she  did  not  go  on  immediately. 

Then  she  shook  her  head,  and  added,"  It  wouldn't 
get  over  the  great  obstacle.  There  would  still  be 
—Mr.  Langbrith." 

"Then,"  said  Anther,  harshly,  "we  must  remove 
that  obstacle,  that  incubus,  ourselves.  That  man's 
memory  mustn't  be  allowed  to  be  a  lifelong  night 
mare  to  you.  You  suffered  enough  from  him  when 
he  was  alive.  We  must  tell  James  about  him." 

"I  couldn't." 

"Then  you  must  let  me." 

She  slowly  turned  her  head  away.  "It's  too 
late,"  she  sighed. 

"  No.  Now  is  just  the  time.  Before  this,  it  would 
have  been  too  soon.  While  he  was  a  child,  you 
could  not  have  told  him;  I  understand  that;  and 

88 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

you  had  to  let  him  grow  up  in  the  superstition  of 
such  a  father  as  he  imagines.  But  now  he  is  old 
enough  and  strong  enough  to  have  his  fetish  taken 
from  him.  You  owe  it  to  him  to  take  it.  Put  me 
out  of  the  question  entirely.  I  will  never  speak  to 
you  again  of  what  I  wish— 

"Oh,  do  you  think  that  would  be  any  help?" 
she  lamented. 

"At  any  rate,  it  is  the  boy's  right  to  know  the 
truth  now." 

"I  always,"  she  tried  to  evade  him,  "hoped  that 
some  accident— 

"Bat  it  never  did.  And  it  never  will.  That 
isn't  the  way  of  accident.  It  doesn't  manage  benef 
icent  surprises." 

"It  is  too  late.  I  can't  let  you  tell  him  the 
truth,  and  I  can't  myself.  It  must  be  covered  up, 
more  and  more!  It  must  be  hidden  forever.  But 
there  is  something — something  you  might  do,  and 
you  could  do  it." 

"For  you?" 

"  For  him — for  me." 

"Of  course,  I  will  do  it." 

"I  don't  know.  You  could  help  him — help  me. 
What  harm  would  there  be  in  your  humoring  the 
child?" 

"How,  humoring  him?" 

"  Why  shouldn't  you  encourage  him — why  should 
you  oppose  him  in  putting  up  that  tablet  ?  Or  not 
that!  Why  should  you  be  so  cold  with  him  about 
it?" 

Anther  walked  out  into  the  hall,  and  got  his  hat 

89 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

and  coat  from  the  rack  there  before  he  spoke. 
"Amelia!"  he  cried  with  a  sternness  that  he  let  die 
out  of  his  voice  before  he  added,  "  Oh,  poor  woman! 
That  scoundrel  has  had  power  to  corrupt  even  you, 
even  now." 

He  opened  the  outer  door,  and,  while  she  stood  on 
the  threshold  of  the  parlor,  with  entreating  hands 
stretched  towards  him,  he  closed  the  door  behind 
him  without  looking  back  at  her. 


XIII 

MRS.  BURWELL  came  to  call  Dr.  Anther  to  break 
fast  as  soon  as  she  heard  him  in  his  office.  He 
had  been  up  late  overnight,  and,  with  the  fretful 
patience  which  had  not  failed  her  in  twenty  years 
of  obedience,  she  had  obeyed  his  instructions  not 
to  call  him  in  such  a  case  at  the  established  hour 
of  seven.  His  breakfast  was  always  ready  at  seven, 
and  it  would  have  been  some  consolation  to  give 
him  his  breakfast  cold,  if  he  ever  noticed  whether 
it  was  cold  or  hot,  but  he  did  not,  and  she  failed  of 
this  comfort.  Among  the  reasons  which  had  de 
cided  her  at  last  to  give  up  house-keeping  and  go  to 
live  with  her  married  daughter  in  Nashua,  the  ir 
regularity  of  Dr.  Anther  at  breakfast  would  have 
been  found  first  by  any  one  who  cared  to  study 
them,  but  it  was  one  which  she  urged  last  upon  the 
inquirer's  attention.  She  said  that  it  had  been 
clearly  agreed  upon  at  the  beginning,  and  that  she 
was  not  one  to  take  back  her  word. 

He  sat  before  his  desk  opening  his  letters,  with 
his  revolving  bookcase  by  his  side,  and,  in  the  long 
case  between  the  two  windows  behind  him,  the 
pendulent  skeleton  which  he  had  bought  with  his 
practice,  from  his  predecessor.  When  the  case  was 
closed,  it  looked  like  a  grandfather's  clock  in  shape, 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

and  when  it  was  open  it  still  suggested  the  intimate 
relation  of  time  and  death.  There  was  a  table  in 
the  room,  and  over  this  were  scattered  medical 
periodicals,  and  other  publications  more  suited  to 
the  taste  and  intelligence  of  patients  waiting  for 
his  return  when  he  was  out.  There  were  some  hard 
chairs  which  did  not  invite  their  fancy  from  the 
stern  realities  of  life  by  luxurious  appeals  to  the 
senses. 

"Lorenzo  Hawberk's  b'en  here,"  Mrs.  Burwell 
complained  to  the  back  of  the  doctor's  bowed  head. 
"  He  said  he  would  call  in  again.  I  don't  know  but 
what  you'll  find  your  coffee  pretty  cold,"  she  la 
mented  further. 

"I'll  be  there  in  a  minute,"  Anther  said,  still 
without  lifting  his  head,  and,  when  he  had  quite 
finished  with  his  morning's  mail,  he  followed  her 
vanishing  into  the  hall  without,  and  thence  into  the 
dining-room. 

If  he  had  been  the  sort  of  man  to  realize  the  order 
of  facts  to  which  any  article  of  food  belonged  by  its 
condition,  he  would  have  found  not  only  his  coffee 
cold,  but  his  biscuit  and  his  steak  cold,  too.  But 
he  was  only  vaguely  aware  of  something  wrong,  as  a 
child  is  when  it  is  in  discomfort,  and  his  sense  ex 
tended  itself  still  more  vaguely  to  an  impression  of 
the  room,  and  of  Mrs.  Burwell  herself.  They  were 
both  severely  neat,  and  they  were  both  of  the  same 
material  and  spiritual  spareness.  Beginning  with 
the  hard  little  knot  which  Mrs.  Burwell' s  silver-sand 
ed  hair  was  tightly  drawn  up  into,  away  from  her 
face,  a  more  than  classic  temperance  of  ornament 

92 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

was  characteristic  of  both.  In  her  and  in  the  room, 
everything  was  designed  and  disposed  with  a  view 
to  not  catching  dust.  The  clock  on  the  mantel, 
supported  by  two  Japanese  fans,  and  the  four  prints 
on  the  four  walls,  representing  severally  the  Lin 
coln  Family  at  Breakfast,  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg, 
the  long-extinct  husband  of  Mrs.  Bur  well,  and  the 
United  States  Senate  listening  to  the  speech  of  Mr. 
Webster  of  Massachusetts  in  reply  to  Mr.  Hayne  of 
South  Carolina,  united  with  the  sideboard,  on  which 
there  was  nothing  that  could  not  be  shut  away  in  its 
drawers  the  moment  the  breakfast  things  were 
washed  up,  in  preserving  a  condition  which  not  only 
would  not  catch  dust,  but  in  which  there  was  no 
dust  to  catch. 

"Did  he  leave  any  word?"  Dr.  Anther  answered, 
not  troubling  himself  to  name  Hawberk  in  his  ques 
tion. 

"No,  he  just  said  he  would  be  back;  there  was 
nothing  particular  the  matter.  I  suppose  he's  be 
gun  again." 

Hawberk's  habit  was  so  notorious  in  Saxmills  that 
Mrs.  Burwell  felt  it  no  violation  of  that  other  con 
vention  between  herself  and  her  tenant,  dating  from 
the  beginning,  like  the  agreement  in  regard  to  break 
fast,  that  she  was  not  to  offer  any  sort  of  comment 
upon  his  patients,  their  characters,  their  ailments, 
or  affairs.  All  the  same,  he  snubbed  her  by  his 
tacit  refusal  to  enter  into  the  case  of  Hawberk 
with  her. 

"  Have  you  heard  from  your  daughter  again,  Mrs. 
Burwell?"  he  asked. 

93 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"No,  I  hain't,"  she  said,  with  an  effect  of  being 
resolved  to  have  no  concealments.  "But,  as  far 
forth  as  that  goes,  I  don't  know  as  I  expected  to." 

"Then  you  are  still  decided  to  go  to  her?" 

"Well,  yes,  I  suppose  I  am,"  she  said,  as  little 
decidedly  in  words  as  a  woman  well  could. 

"Supposing  won't  do,"  Anther  pursued.  "I 
must  know  whether  you  really  intend  to  go  or  not, 
for  I  must  find  some  other  quarters  if  you  do,  and 
I  want  time." 

"Well,  then,  I  am.  I  suppose  I  said  'suppose* 
because  I  didn't  want  to  seem  to  be  hurrying  you 
up  any." 

"You'll  hurry  me  up  if  you  don't  give  me  due 
notice." 

Mrs.  Burwell's  hard  mouth  and  hard  eyes  joined 
in  the  adamantine  response  which  she  made.  "I'm 
goin'  to  leave  this  house  the  first  day  of  July,  no 
sooner  and  no  later,  as  far  as  I  can  humanly 
fix  it." 

"Oh,  well,  then,"  Anther  said,  "that  gives  me 
plenty  of  time  to  look  about.  I  thought  you  were 
going  in  June." 

"Well,"  she  admitted,  reluctantly,  and  without 
that  bravado  of  frankness  which  she  had  shown  be 
fore,  "I  did  some  think  of  goin'  in  June,  and  I  did 
think  I  might  as  well  stay  the  summer  out  here. 
It's  full  more  comfortable  than  what  it  is  in  Nashua, 
with  the  heat,  and  it's  easier  to  begin  in  a  new  place 
where  you've  got  to  be  shut  up  a  good  deal,  any 
way,  by  beginnin'  in  the  fall  of  the  year." 

"Yes,  that  is  so,"  the  doctor  granted,  and  Mrs. 

94 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Burwell  chose  to  read  a  sympathy  into  his  words 
which  they  did  not  express. 

"I  presume  that  I  shall  feel  the  change,  and  I 
presume  you  will,  some." 

"Yes,  I  shall  hate  the  moving." 

"  That's  what  I  mean.  And  I  wonder  you  want 
to  move.  Why  don't  you  take  the  house  yourself  ? 
It  '11  be  to  rent  when  I  give  it  up.  You  could  keep 
your  old  rooms  here,  and  get  somebody  in  to  do  for 
you — I  don't  know  but  what  Orlando  himself  could. 
He's  real  handy  about  a  house,  and  he  knows  your 
ways — till  you  could  get  somebody  to  take  the  rest 
of  the  house.  You  could  meal  out;  you're  so  ir 
regular,  anyway.  I  declare  I  feel  bad  about  break- 
in'  you  up  here,  and  I  don't  like  to  have  anybody 
comin'  in  that  I  don't  know." 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Burwell,"  Anther  said  to  the 
part  of  her  speech  that  demanded  thanks  from  him. 

"I  don't,  one  bit,"  she  continued,  with  the  other 
part.  "And  still  I  don't  want  to  have  it,  as  you 
may  say,  layin'  empty." 

"No,  it  would  be  a  certain  expense,  and  you 
would  get  no  return  from  it." 

"Yes,  and  a  house  wears  out  faster  when  it's 
empty.  I'd  be  willing  to  let  it  to  anybody  that 
would  take  good  care  of  it  for  two  hundred  and  fifty 
a  year." 

"That  would  be  reasonable." 

"Why,  it  wouldn't  hardly  more  than  pay  the  re 
pairs  and  taxes,"  Mrs.  Burwell  urged.  "  I  shouldn't 
expect  to  make  anything  on  it,  though  goodness 
knows  I  need  to,  with  everything  as  dear  as  they 

95 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

say  it  is  to  Nashua.  I  expect  to  pay  good  board 
to  my  daughter,  though  I  presume  I  shall  do  enough 
about  the  house  to  make  up  without  payin'  any 
thing." 

"Well,  I'll  see  about  it." 

"  So  do."  Mrs.  Burwell  did  not  rise,  but  stretched 
her  long  arm  across  the  table  for  the  doctor's  plate ; 
she  cleaned  it  into  her  own,  and  began  to  put  the 
table  in  order  for  his  uncertain  dinner  before  he 
left  the  room.  He  went  out  of  the  side  door  upon 
a  back  porch,  where  Mrs.  Burwell  considered  it 
neater  to  do  certain  parts  of  her  housework  than  in 
doors,  and  more  convenient  for  the  disposal  of  pea- 
pods,  squash  seeds,  and  all  kinds  of  cores  and  peel 
ings,  as  well  as  those  bits  of  refuse  from  fowls  and 
butcher 's-meat  which  she  could  throw  to  the  hens, 
netted  into  their  yard  beside  the  stable,  without 
having  contaminated  her  kitchen  with  them.  She 
preferred  to  work  there  not  only  in  summer,  but  as 
far  into  the  winter  as  she  could  bear  the  cold,  and, 
wrapped  up  as  to  her  head  and  shoulders,  she  defied 
the  elements  till  after  Thanksgiving  and  well  tow 
ards  Christmas.  Her  back  yard,  between  this  porch 
and  the  stable,  was  as  clean  as  the  front  yard,  which 
dropped  from  the  terrace  where  the  house  stood, 
and  sloped  three  yards  and  no  more  to  the  white 
paling  fence  in  the  gloom  of  four  funereal  firs, 
cropped  upward,  as  their  boughs  died  of  their  own 
denseness,  till  their  trunks  showed  as  high  as  the 
chamber  windows.  The  house  was  painted  of  a 
whiteness  which  age  had  never  been  suffered  to 
soften,  but  was  as  coldly  fresh  as  the  green  of  the 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

shutters ;  it  had  been  there  thirty  years,  but  it  stood 
as  prim  and  new  to  the  eye  in  every  detail  as  if  it 
had  been  finished  the  week  before.  Mrs.  Burwell 
herself  never  appeared  in  the  front  yard  except  to 
pick  up  the  fir  twigs  dropped  in  the  spindling  grass 
that  bearded  the  terrace ;  in  the  immediate  shadow 
of  the  trees  no  grass  grew,  and  the  ground  was 
matted  with  the  dark -brown  decay  of  their  spray 
and  spills,  and  looked  as  if  it  were  burned  over. 

Dr.  Anther  noted  that  his  buggy  must  have  been 
driven  to  the  front  gate,  since  there  were  no  signs 
of  it  at  the  stable  door,  and  he  walked  round  the 
house,  and  looked  up  at  its  frigid  facade  with  a  novel 
interest.  It  had  been  long  since  he  had  looked  at 
it,  though  he  had  daily  gone  in  and  out,  and  had 
slept  in  the  northeast  chamber  ever  since  he  had 
been  Mrs.  Burwell' s  lodger.  A  certain  shallowness 
of  the  structure  now  appeared  to  him,  and  he  real 
ized  that  the  front  was  but  one  room  deep  on  each 
side' of  the  door,  and  that  it  shrank  behind  into  the 
ell  which  imperfectly  supported  its  pretensions  of 
squareness,  by  stretching  into  an  indefinite  extent 
of  kitchen  and  woodshed  beyond  the  dining-room. 
He  perceived  that  he  had  the  two  best  rooms,  but 
that  the  parlor,  and  the  chamber  above  it,  which 
was  kept  as  a  guest-room,  though  he  could  not  re 
member  when  there  had  been  a  guest  in  it,  were  as 
large,  if  not  as  pleasant,  as  his  own.  From  the  fact 
of  back  stairs,  he  had  always  inferred  a  chamber 
over  the  dining-room,  and  he  had  conjectured  some 
thing  of  the  sort  in  the  sloping  roof  of  the  kitchen. 
There  were,  then,  eight  rooms  in  all,  and  it  did  not 

97 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

seem  to  Anther,  though  he  gave  the  matter  no  very 
distinct  thought,  that  there  were  too  many  for  the 
money  that  Mrs.  Burwell  proposed  getting  for  it  in 
a  place  like  Saxmills.  He  dropped  his  cursory 
glance  from  the  facade  to  the  front  door,  and  noted, 
with  the  sort  of  novel  interest  that  the  whole  had 
inspired,  the  name  of  Justin  Anther,  M.D.,  on  its 
small,  glass-framed  plate,  and  then- he  went  in-doors. 

There  was  some  one  waiting  for  him  in  his  office, 
and  he  said,  "Ah,  Hawberk!"  in  greeting  of  the 
presence  which  he  had  inferred  from  the  legs  he 
had  first^  seen,  as  they  stretched  across  the  per 
spective  of  the  door-way. 

The  man  got  to  his  feet  with  a  certain  alertness, 
which  was  more  like  a  reminiscence  of  past  activity 
than  an  actual  fact,  and  offered  the  doctor  a  wasted 
hand.  He  looked  shrunken  within  his  clothes,  and 
his  greenish-brown  complexion,  blotched  with  patch 
es  of  deeper  brown,  where  the  skin  showed  above 
the  lustreless  beard,  was  lighted  with  eyes  which 
were  still  beautiful,  though  their  black  was  dim 
med  by  the  suffering  through  which  they  had  sunk 
into  their  cavernous  sockets. 

"Good -morning,  doctor,"  Hawberk  said,  and  he 
added,  courteously,  "I  hope  I  see  you  well?" 

"I'm  fairly  well,"  Anther  said,  facing  round  in 
his  swivel-chair,  which  he  had  taken  at  once.  "  Sit 
down,  won't  you?  When  did  you  get  back?" 

"Oh,  I've  been  back  some  time — about  a  fort 
night,  I  should  say.  But  I've  been  pretty  busy 
with  a  little  thing  of  mine  that  I'm  working  at,  and 
I  haven't  been  about  the  town  much." 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  I  hope  my  old  friend  Fredericks  was  able  to  do 
for  you  what  you  wanted?" 

"Oh  yes,  oh  yes,''  Hawberk  answered,  nervously, 
but  with  a  vagueness  that  did  not  seem  to  belong 
with  the  quickness.  "  He  set  me  up.  I'm  all  right 


now." 


"Gone  back  to  it  since  your  return?" 

"Well,  no.  I  can't  say  that  exactly.  Still  I 
don't  think  it's  well  to  make  an  entire  break.  I 
think  the  tonic  effect  is  good,  don't  you?" 

"  Perhaps.  If  you  don't  make  it  too  tonic.  How 
much  have  you  got  back  to?" 

"Well,  it  ain't  worth  mentioning.  Two  or  three 
spoonfuls  after  meals,  and  as  many  more  at  night." 

"Dreams  all  they  ought  to  be?" 

"  Oh  yes,  they're  all  right,  now.  I'm  out  of  that 
pit  that  used  to  give  me  so  much  trouble.  I  don't 
have  to  keep  digging  at  it  the  whole  night  now,  as 
I  used  to  before  I  went  to  the  Retreat.  Dr.  Fred 
ericks  pulled  me  out  of  that  fairly  well.  There  is  a 
small  matter  of  old  bones  and  a  skull  or  two,"  Haw- 
berk  added,  with  a  jocosity  that  did  not  make  An 
ther  smile.  "But  the  great  thing  is  that  I  under 
stand  it's  a  dream  even  while  I'm  dreaming  it,  and 
I  guess  I  shall  be  able  to  break  it  up  if  I  keep  realiz 
ing  it.  And  it  doesn't  seem  to  last  so  long.  I  think 
that's  a  decided  gain,  don't  you  ?" 

"It's  not  a  loss,"  the  doctor  admitted. 

"It's  a  fighting  chance,  and  I'm  taking  all  the 
fighting  chances  there  are.  I've  fairly  got  the  up- 
perhand.  If  you  were  to  tell  me  to  leave  the  whole 
thing  off,  I  could  do  it,  and  not  turn  a  hair." 

99 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Anther  made  no  answer,  and  Hawberk  sank  from 
his  bragging  note  into  a  dull,  confused  tone,  as  he 
rubbed  his  hand  over  his  forehead  tremulously. 
"There  was  something  I  wanted  to  tell  you 
about—" 

The  doctor  prompted  him  after  a  moment's  wait, 
"  Any  thing  about  your  condition?" 

"  No,  no."  As  if  he  could  not  recall  the  thing  he 
was  groping  for,  Hawberk  said,  with  a  sort  of  pro- 
visionality,  "  I  stopped  in  Boston  on  my  way  up 
yesterday,  and  saw  that  man  who  has  my  new 
patent  in  hand.  He's  a  great  fellow,  and  he's  work 
ing  it  for  all  it's  worth.  He's  sold  territory  over  the 
whole  country,  and  up  into  Canada.  Why,  doctor, 
he's  got  twenty  thousand  dollars  for  the  Canadian 
rights  alone,  up  to  date,  and  I  come  in  for  a  clean 
half  of  the  money!  I'm  going  to  build,  this  spring. 
I've  as  good  as  bought  that  hill  back  of  my  house- 
got  an  option  on  it — and  I'm  going  to  build  up  there 
and  keep  the  old  place  where  we  are  for  a  shop.  Have 
a  walk  slanting  down  to  it  over  the  corner  of  the  hill, 
but  have  the  main  entrance  to  the  new  place  by  a 
flight  of  stone  steps  from  the  street.  Have  the 
whole  front  of  the  hill  terraced.  I've  got  a  land 
scape  architect  in  Boston  studying  it  out  for  me. 
I  was  telling  Jim  Langbrith  about  it  last  night.  He 
brought  Hope  home  from  the  party  at  his  mother's, 
and  we  got  talking,  and—  Oh  yes.  Now  I  know 
what  it  is  I  wanted  to  speak  with  you  about,  doctor, 
It's  a  very  confidential  matter,  and  I  don't  know 
anybody  that  I'd  like  to  trust  with  it  except  you. 
You  at  their  house  last  night?" 

100 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Yes,"  Anther  owned. 

"Well,  all  right.  I  couldn't  go  with  Hope  my 
self,  for  I  had  that  man  up  from  Boston  that's 
handling  my  new  patent.  Had  to  send  Mrs.  Lang- 
brith  an  excuse  by  Hope.  But  you  saw  them  to 
gether,  didn't  you?  And  what  did  you  think? 
Think-  there  was  anything  serious  ?  I  mean  in  Hope. 
Because  I  know  there  is  in  him.  He  asked  me  last 
night  if  I  had  any  objections'  to  their  getting  mar 
ried  as  soon  as  he  is  out  of  college.  I  haven't  talked 
with  Hope,  and  I  don't  know,  except  from  him,  how 
she  feels." 

Hawberk  tried  to  fix  Anther  with  the  dull  eyes 
that  had  once  been  brilliantly  black  and  bold,  but 
now  seemed  to  slip  in  their  glance,  and  he  paused 
in  the  monologue  which  was  like  sleep-talking,  a 
continuous  babble,  unbroken  in  its  flow  by  the 
questions  that  interspersed  it. 

The  doctor  rubbed  his  chin  and  stared  back  at 
him.  "Are  you  sure  of  what  you  say,  Hawberk?" 

"Sure!" 

"  Because,  you  know,  you  sometimes  can't  tell 
the  facts  from  the  dreams." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  this  time.  I  couldn't  be  mistaken 
about  a  thing  like  that.  What  do  you  advise  me 
to  do  ?  I've  got  plenty  of  means  to  meet  the  Lang- 
briths  half-way  on  any  money  proposition.  As 
things  are  going  with  me  now,  I  could  give  Hope  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  the  day  she  was  mar 
ried.  And  Jim  Langbrith  comes  of  good  old  stock. 
I  consider  his  mother  the  finest  lady  I  ever  met,  and 
he's  his  mother  all  over  again — looks  like  her,  talks 

101 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

like  her,  walks  like  her.  I  haven't  forgot  how  she 
used  to  come  up  and  nurse  my  poor  wife,  and  it 
would  be  kind  of  appropriate  having  the  two  fam 
ilies  brought  together  again,  the  same  as  Langbrith 
and  I  used  to  be  in  business.  Well,  now  I'd  like 
to  get  your  opinion,  doctor.  I  haven't  spoken  to 
my  mother-in-law  yet,  because  if  the  thing. doesn't 
strike  you  favorably  I  don't  want  it  to  go  any  fur 
ther.  I  want  to  stop  it  right  here."  He  lowered 
his  voice  from  the  high  note  to  which  it  had  been 
climbing  back,  and  looked  round  him  furtively. 
"You  don't  think  there's  any  likelihood  of  that  lit 
tle  green  fellow  coming  back  ?  I  can  get  along  now 
with  the  bones  and  the  skulls,  but  that  dwarf — ' 

"Have  you  seen  him  again?"  Anther  asked,  so 
berly. 

"  No,  not  what  you  may  call  seen.  But  I  feel  as 
if  I  might,  any  minute." 

"Well,  you  know  there's  no  more  reality  in  him 
than  there  is  in  those  other  things." 

"Yes,  I  understand  that." 

"  But  you  will  see  him,  if  you  get  to  letting  your 
self  go." 

"Yes,"  Hawberk  assented,  with  a  long  breath. 
"If  he  wasn't  green  —  kind  of  mouldy  — "  He 
stared,  and  after  a  moment  he  said,  "What  I  want 
is  something  that  will  take  me  out  of  myself,  good 
and  strong." 

Anther  was  apparently  not  heeding.  He  said 
sharply,  "Hawberk!  Can  you  carry  your  mind 
back  to  that  old  difficulty  between  you  and  James's 
father?" 

IO2 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Hawberk  glanced  at  the  doctor,  slyly.  "What 
old  difficulty?" 

"You  must  know.  When  you  first  began  to  lose 
sleep,  and  took  up  this  habit." 

The  slyness  passed  into  vagueness,  then  the  vague 
ness  gathered  itself  into  a  look  of  fury,  which  lost 
itself  with  the  words  in  which  it  exploded:  "Damn 
him!" 

"Yes.     Just  what  was  it?"  Anther  pursued. 

The  vagueness  came  back,  and  then  the  slyness. 
"  Why,  there  wa'n't  anything  that  you  may  call  a 
difficulty,  doctor.  All  that's  past  and  gone.  We 
both  agreed  not  to  say  anything  more  about  it.  He 
never  did,  and  I  haven't.  Ever  strike  you  that 
that  skull  of  mine — that  one  I've  had  so  much 
trouble  with — looked  like —  Well,  I've  been  think 
ing,  since  I  saw  Jim,  last  night- 
Anther  shook  his  head,  kindly.  "That's  your 
fancy,  Hawberk.  But  you  did  feel  injured,  badly 
used,  at  the  time,  didn't  you?  Try  to  think.  You 
know  you  used  to  tell  me  things  very  different  from 
those  you  have  got  to  saying  since,  and  I  have  a 
reason  for  wishing  to  find  out  the  original  facts,  just 
now.  They  may  have  a  bearing  on  an  important 
matter — important  to  us  both.  You  put  in  your 
invention,  didn't  you,  and  then  he  forced  you  out?" 

Hawberk  looked  down  and  passed  his  hand  over 
his  forehead.  "  There  was  something  like  that.  But 
he  paid  me  a  good  round  sum  for  the  invention,  and 
a  big  bonus  for  going  out,  didn't  he?" 

"You  ought  to  know.  Was  that  really  the  case, 
or  is  it  what  you've  imagined  since?" 

103 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Why,  I  should  say  it  was  the  case."  A  fear, 
the  look  of  a  man  at  some  time  deeply  intimidated, 
supplanted  the  slyness  in  Hawberk's  blotched-brown 
visage.  "  It's  a  thing  I've  agreed  not  to  talk  about. 
He  lets  me  alone  because  I  don't.  He's  got  my 
promise,  and  I've  got  his.  If  I  didn't  keep  my 
word,  he  would  be  over  the  wall  the  first  time  I 
fell  asleep.  You  don't  catch  me." 

"Come!  come!"  Anther  said,  severely.  "You 
mustn't  talk  that  kind  of  nonsense  to  me.  I  tell 
you,  I  am  quite  in  earnest,  and  I  would  like  to  know 
the  bottom  facts.  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  trust 
ing  me  with  them.  You  know,  as  well  as  I  do,  the 
unreality  of  those  troubles  of  yours.  They  come 
from  opium,  and  from  nothing  else.  Now,  was  there 
any  hold  that  Langbrith  had  on  you,  enabling  him 
to  force  your  consent  to  going  out  of  business  and 
giving  him  the  entire  usufruct  of  your  invention? 
I  want  you  to  answer  that  fairly  and  squarely. 
Was  there,  or  wasn't  there?" 

Hawberk  passed  his  hand  over  his  tormented 
brow  again.  "There  was  something,  doctor.  It's 
strange.  It  seems  as  if  there  was  a  hold  I  had  on 
him.  But  it  must  have  been  a  hold  he  had  on  me. 
I  can't  straighten  that  out.  That  appears  to  be  the 
trouble  with  me.  I  don't  see  why  I  didn't  use  the 
hold  if  I  was  the  one  that  had  it,  unless — unless  it 
was  something  about  Mrs.  Langbrith.  Do  you  sup 
pose  it  was?  She  had  been  good  to  my  wife;  she 
took  care  of  her  in  those  last  days —  Oh,  my  God, 
how  they  come  back!  Doctor,  do  you  wonder  I 
took  to  it?  To  get  a  little  sleep!  Once  I  went  a 

104 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

fortnight  without  knowing  I  had  any,  if  I  had  any. 
It  was  hell.  Nothing  since  from  the  opium —  Ah, 
I  can't  think  it  out!" 

"Try,"  Anther  insisted.  "It  is  very  essential." 
He  rose  from  his  chair,  and  began  to  walk  restively 
up  and  down  the  room,  while  Hawberk  lay  dream 
ily  staring  at  the  windows,  which  Anther's  person 
showed  itself  against,  now  one  and  now  the  other, 
as  he  paced  to  and  fro.  "  I — I  don't  know  but  I'm 
getting  it,"  he  began.  The  doctor's  foot  struck  a 
plank  that  gave  under  it,  and  the  door  of  the  long 
case  fell  softly  open.  Hawberk  scrambled  to  his 
feet  with  a  shuddering  cry,  "Oh,  for  God's  sake, 
what's  that?" 

"You  know — you  know  well  enough!"  Anther 
shouted.  "Don't  be  a  fool!  It's  that  old  skeleton 
that  you've  seen  a  hundred  times.  I've  had  it 
ever  since  I've  been  here,  and  Hillward  before  me. 
Now,  do  have  a  little  sense.  It's  a  real  one,  and  it 
can't  bother  you  like  those  fancy  ones  of  yours." 

He  went  up  to  Hawberk,  and  put  his  hands  on 
him  to  stay  his  trembling.  ' '  What — what  does  a 
man  want  to  keep  a  thing  like  that  around  for?" 
Hawberk  faltered  out,  helpless  to  take  his  eyes  from 
the  quivering  thing  that  slightly  turned  as  it  dan 
gled.  "Shut  it  up!" 

Anther  obeyed,  and  Hawberk  dropped  nerveless 
ly  into  his  chair.  "Lord,  I  don't  see  how  I'm  to 
get  home." 

The  doctor  looked  at  him  grimly,  then  pityingly, 
then  despairingly,  as  to  any  hope  of  further  light 
from  him  then  on  the  point  he  wished  to  clear. 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  I'm  driving  up  your  way.     I'll  take  you.     There's 
my  buggy  at  the  door." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  doctor,'*  Hawberk  said,  and  he 
found  strength  to  follow  him  out  into  the  hall 
where  his  hat  and  coat  hung,  and  got  out  of  the 
house  first. 


XIV 

LATE  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  Saturday, 
Anther  stopped  his  horse  in  front  of  the  business 
block,  as  it  called  itself,  where  Judge  Garley  had 
his  office  over  the  National  Bank.  It  was  the  only 
brick  building  in  Saxmills,  and  the  office  of  the 
judge  was  itself  approached  by  an  outer  stairway 
of  the  prevalent  wooden  construction.  The  doctor 
met  him  on  the  landing  at  the  moment  when  he 
turned  from  turning  the  key  in  his  door. 

"  Going  for  the  day  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  disappoint 
ment  which  he  could  not  keep  out  of  either  his  face 
or  his  voice. 

"Not  if  you're  coming  for  it,"  the  judge  placidly 
replied.  He  turned  the  key  in  his  door  again,  and 
hospitably  threw  it  open.  "Walk  in." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  the  doctor  apologized,  but 
the  judge  took  no  heed  of  his  apology,  except  to 
push  him  in. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said,  and  he  reached  a  book  from 
the  top  of  his  roll-top  desk.  "There's  something  I 
think  you  might  find  interesting.  It's  more  in  your 
line  than  mine,  and  I've  found  it  interesting.  Well, 
it's  important  as  a  matter  of  medical  jurisprudence, 
too." 

"What  is  it?"  the  doctor  asked,  listlessly  turning 
107 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  book  over  in  his  lap  and  fluttering  the  leaves 
absently. 

"Why,  it's  a  study  of  the  criminal  settlement  on 
that  island  off  the  northeast  coast  of  Japan  where 
the  Russians  colonize  their  murderers.  As  they 
have  no  capital  punishment,  except  for  political 
offences,  they  have  to  do  something  with  their 
homicides,  and  they  collect  them  on  that  island  and 
keep  them  there  for  life.  It's  very  curious,  espe 
cially  in  its  reversion  to  some  old-fashioned  theories 
—the  book,  I  mean.  When  I  was  on  the  bench — 
and  it  has  been  my  experience  as  a  criminal  lawyer, 
too — it  seemed  to  me  that  very  few  criminals  suf 
fered  what  we  called  remorse.  They  wished  to  dis 
own  their  crimes,  to  keep  from  realizing  that  they 
had  committed  them,  and  they  wished  to  get  off 
from  the  penalty;  but  I  could  not  make  out  that 
they  were  consumingly  sorry  for  them.  This  man 
seems  to  think  differently,  and  he  says  some  things 
to  make  you  think  he  is  right.  We  generally  kill 
off  our  murderers  before  they  have  time  to  show 
remorse,  but  the  Russians  keep  them,  in  a  kind  of 
cold  storage,  up  there  in  the  latitude  of  Siberia,  and 
they  have  opportunities  of  studying  effects  that  we 
precipitately  deny  ourselves  the  knowledge  of.  The 
remorse  is  long  in  getting  to  the  surface,  but,  if  this 
man  is  right,  it  is  always  there,  and  he  has  heard  it 
comes  out  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in 
the  murderers'  dormitories,  when  they  wake  rested 
from  the  fatigue  of  their  hard  day's  labor,  and  be 
gin  to  think.  An  interesting  phase  of  their  re 
morse  is  the  pity  they  feel  for  their  victims." 

108 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Anther  sat  with  the  book  fallen  shut  in  his  lap, 
and  he  did  not  seem  to  have  been  attentive  to  all 
that  the  judge  was  saying.  When  Garley  stopped, 
the  doctor  asked,  "What  do  you  think  of  a  man 
who  takes  the  life  of  another's  soul — destroys  his 
soul?  It  was  a  woman's  expression." 

The  judge  smiled  intelligently.  "I  should  im 
agine.  But  I  should  doubt  whether  it  could  be 
done.  Do  you  want  to  engage  me  for  the  defence  ?" 

"No,"  said  Anther,  falling  in  with  his  humor, 
"he's  out  of  danger  from  the  law — unless — unless 
some  law  follows  up  such  fellows  where  they  go." 

"The  old  theory  was  that  some  law  did,"  the 
judge  suggested. 

"Yes,  and  we  can't  tell  how  much  truth  there 
was  in  it.  The  base  of  doubt  in  me  is  the  immunity 
which  wrong-doing  seems  to  have  here.  But  per 
haps  it's  only  an  appearance." 

The  judge  laughed  now.  "It  serves  the  purpose 
of  a  reality  in  a  great  many  cases.  What  scrape  do 
you  want  me  to  get  you  out  of?" 

The  doctor  got  no  further  than  smiling,  though 
he  fell  in  with  the  judge's  mood,  which  is  the  pre 
vailing  American  mood  in  the  face  of  any  mystery. 
"  Nothing  worse  than  allowing  opium  to  a  man  who 
would  take  it  anyway." 

"Well,  I  see  that  you've  decided  on  your  line  of 
defence." 

It  was  a  little  time  before  Anther  suggested,  at  an 
apparent  remoteness  from  the  point,  "You  were 
never  here  in  Royal  Langbrith's  day?" 

"  No,  I  came  here  first  after  my  last  term  in  the 
109 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Assembly,  when  he  had  been  dead  some  time.  I 
believe  you  and  I  came  here  about  the  same  time, 
didn't  we?" 

"No,  I  preceded  you  several  years.  And  I  had 
known  him  before  I  came  here.  We  were  in  college 
together?" 

"Am  I  to  infer  something  against  him  on  that  ac 
count?"  the  judge  inquired,  with  the  jocosity  which 
the  doctor  had  ceased  to  share,  even  by  so  much  as 
a  smile. 

"He  was  the  devil,"  Anther  said,  with  a  brevity 
which  was  of  almost  a  dispassionate  effect. 

The  judge  was  amused  by  the  succinctness  so  far 
as  to  observe,  "  In  the  case  of  a  living  person,  that 
is  a  sort  of  language  which  we  should  consider 
actionable,  I'm  afraid." 

"The  things  I  know  of  that  man — " 

Anther  stopped,  and  sat  staring  at  the  judge's 
law-books  where  they  stood  ranged  on  the  shelves 
before  him,  showing  their  red  labels  on  their  sheep 
skin  backs  with  a  uniformity  in  height  and  shape, 
broken  here  and  there  by  cases  of  pamphlets  and 
documents,  and  stray  pieces  of  fiction  the  judge 
was  fond  of  reading. 

"  Would  fill  volumes,*'  the  lawyer  interpreted,  with 
pleasant  interest. 

Anther  came  back  to  himself  with  a  sharp  "  Yes!" 
and  Judge  Garley  went  on: 

"  Well,  now,  do  you  know,  I'm  not  surprised,  some 
how.  I've  come  upon  one  or  two  things  lately,  in  a 
professional  way,  connected  with  the  deceased,  that 
did  not  smell  as  sweet  as  the  conventional  memory 

no 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

which  seems  to  have  blossomed  in  the  dust  all  over 
the  place.  It  is  very  curious!  I  have  sensed  for 
a  good  while,  by  that  sixth  sense  which  we  haven't 
got  a  name  for  yet,  that  there  was  something  hushed 
up  in  regard  to  that  man." 

"  There  is  everything  hushed  up,"  Anther  nodded, 
frowningly. 

"And  you  mean  that  you  can  tell  me — ?"  The 
judge  checked  himself,  with  a  laugh  for  his  weak 
ness. 

"Not  everything,  because  I  don't  know  every 
thing;  but  I  know  enough." 

"Squalid  things — the  kind  we  don't  like  to  han 
dle,  or  pretend  we  don't?" 

"Squalid,  and  lurid,  too.     He  was  the  devil." 

"There  you  are,  with  your  actionable  language 
again!  It's  well  for  you  that  our  ex-fellow-citizen 
is  out  of  the  way." 

"Do  you  believe,"  Anther  asked,  "that  one  of  us 
can  do  another  a  wrong  so  atrocious  as  to  confound 
the  sufferer's  conscience?" 

"Cause  his  brother  to  offend?  Isn't  that  rather 
a  question  for  our  friend  Enderby?" 

"Perhaps.     But  what  do  you  think?" 

"I  should  say  that  it  was  a  theory  which  a  great 
many  people  would  like  to  urge  for  a  justification, 
or  at  least  an  explanation  of  their  misdemeanors." 

The  doctor's  tragic  humor  broke  in  a  joyless  laugh. 
"Oh,  of  course,  you  are  right.  It  is  astonishing 
how  these  old  theological  cobwebs  hang  on  in  cor 
ners  of  the  brain.  What  a  comfort  you  legal  minds 
are!  Advocates  diaboli!" 

in 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRiTH 

"Ah,  aren't  you  playing  that  part  now ?  I  should 
be  quite  willing  to  leave  our  ex-townsman  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  canonization,  but  you  seem  to 
want  to  reopen  the  case." 

"  No."  Anther  relapsed  into  his  gloom.  "  It  can 
never  be  reopened.  That  is  the  worst  of  the  evil 
that  lives  after  men.  It  intertwines  itself  with  so 
much  of  the  good  in  the  survivors  that  you  can't 
strike  at  it  without  wounding  the  best  and  gentlest 
of  them.  But  I  want  to  tell  you,  Garley,  about 
that  man —  Or,  no !  Why  should  I  bore  you— 
burden  you?" 

' 'Oh,  we  always  like  scandal,  even  concerning 
the  dead.  I've  allowed  that,  and  I  can  enjoy  yours 
all  the  more  because  I  know  it  isn't  idle  scandal. 
Go  on,  doctor!" 

Anther  had  risen,  and  he  did  not  sit  down  at  the 
courteous  gesture  towards  his  chair  which  the  judge 
made. 

"Hawberk  has  got  back,"  he  said. 

"Ah!"  Judge  Garley  brightened  up.  "It's  he 
whom  you  have  been  allowing  the  opium?  I  sup 
posed  he  always  came  back  permanently  cured." 

"This  time  seems  to  be  an  exception.  He  has 
come  back  cured  of  seven-eighths  of  his  ordinary 
dose,  if  you  can  believe  him;  which  you  can't.  I 
used  to  think  I  could  follow  his  lies,  or  their  prob 
able  direction.  But  I  give  it  up.  Beyond  having 
mostly  an  optimistic  character,  and  being  the  abso 
lute  reverse  of  the  known  fact,  his  mendacity  is  ari 
ever-new  surprise.  I  give  it  a  harder  name  than 
it  ought  to  have.  He  doesn't  mean  to  deceive, 

112 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

poor  soul.  It's  pure  romancing,  absolute  fiction, 
but  it's  no  worse.  What  interested  me  to-day  was 
the  turn  which  he  has  taken  towards  the  memory  of 
the  man  who  ruined  him.  He  wanted  to  persuade 
me  that  Royal  Langbrith  was  a  fine  fellow,  with 
whom  he  had  always  been  on  the  best  of  terms. 
The  fact  is — do  you  want  to  hear  it?  Well,  I'll 
tell  you  anyway — Langbrith  did  him  one  of  the 
deadliest  and  cruelest  injuries  that  ever  a  man  had 
to  bear.  You  know  they  were  partners  in  the  mills 
here?" 

"I  have  heard  the  poetic  legend  that  Hawberk 
was  an  ingenious  mechanic  to  whom  Langbrith  gave 
a  share  in  the  business,  and  then  had  to  get  rid  of 
because  he  was  an  opium  fiend.  Is  the  legend  a 
little  too  florid?" 

Anther  seemed  to  restrain  a  burst  of  fury.  When 
he  spoke  it  was  quite  pacifically.  "  You  can  decide. 
Hawberk  was  an  ingenious  mechanic,  whose  inven 
tion  put  the  business  on  a  prosperous  basis.  He 
discovered  how  to  make  from  straw-pulp  the  light 
quality  of  printing-paper  which  is  the  specialty  of 
the  mills  to  -  day,  and  which  they  still  have  the 
secret  of.  Langbrith  wanted  the  whole  business. 
Hawberk  had  been  his  partner  from  the  beginning, 
and  he  forced  Hawberk  out  under  threat  of  expos 
ing  him  to  his 'wife,  almost  maniacally  neurotic,  in 
a  foolish  boy  affair  with  a  woman.  Hawberk  told 
me,  while  he  could  still  tell  the  truth,  that  there 
was  nothing  guilty  in  the  business ;  but  his" wife  was 
frantically  jealous,  and  the  fact  wouldn't  have  mat 
tered.  She  would  have  believed  anything  against 

113 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

him,  because  she  must."  From  his  own  science 
the  judge  acknowledged  with  a  nod  the  point  which 
the  doctor  made  from  his.  "He  brooded  upon  his 
injury  night  and  day,  till  the  night  and  day  were 
one,  and  there  was  no  sleep  in  them.  Then  he  took 
to  opium.  I  prescribed  it,  as  I  should  have  to  do 
again  in  a  case  like  his,  if  we  were  back  where  we 
were  then  with  soporifics.  He  could  not  have  taken 
chloral.  But  the  opium  mastered  him,  while  he  was 
still  hoping  for  justice  from  a  man  who  did  not 
know  what  justice  meant.  His  opium-eating  could 
not  be  kept  a  secret  in  a  place  like  this,  and  Lang- 
brith  had  it  all  his  own  way.  The  things  that  can 
be  kept  secret  are  the  kind  of  things  he  did.  He 
had  two  wives :  one,  the  woman  he  threatened  Haw- 
berk  with,  in  Boston,  and  never  married,  and  one, 
the  Mrs.  Langbrith  you  know  here.  He  went  to 
town  for  his  debauches  of  all  kinds,  and  sometimes 
when  he  came  home  so  much  of  his  drink-fury  re 
mained  that  he  taunted  his  wife  with  the  other 
woman.  He  used  to  strike  her — she  has  told  me, 
because  she  had  to,  and  that  is  how  I  came  to  know 
the  other  thing.  She  told  me  that,  too,  but  not  un 
til  it  could  not  be  kept  from  me  any  longer.  What 
graves  women  are  for  the  wickedness  of  men!  I 
suppose  you  know  it,  in  your  profession;  but  in 
mine — !" 

Anther  had  apparently  come  to  an  end,  but  he 
sank  into  the  chair  he  had  left. 

"That  does  put  another  complexion  on  it,"  the 
judge  said,  sobered  in  his  irony,  but  ironical  still. 
"I  don't  know  that  I  can  dispute  your  professional 

114 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

superiority  as  a  repository  of  family  mysteries. 
Your  case  rather  goes  beyond  any  I  could  boast  of, 
in  some  features." 

"And  this,"  Anther  broke  out,  taking  away  the 
handkerchief  with  which  he  had  been  wiping  his 
face,  ' '  is  the  man  whom  that  poor  young  fool  wants 
to  put  up  a  tablet  to  in  the  front  of  the  Public 
Library!" 

"I  noticed"  the  judge  said,  "that  you  seemed  to 
receive  the  suggestion  rather  conservatively  the 
other  night.  I  laid  it  to  envy  of  the  deceased." 

"Oh,  pooh!  I  know  what  you  mean.  I  was  go 
ing  to  tell  you.  I  do  wish  to  marry  her.  I  don't 
think  she  is  perfect,  and  I'm  long  past  the  time  of 
marrying  for  'love,'  as  it  is  called.  But  to  me  she 
is  the  most  sacred  of  human  beings.  I  have  known 
her  from  the  first  days  of  her  hideous  marriage,  al 
most  from  the  time  when  that  man  took  her  from 
her  hard  work  in  his  mills  and  made  her  his  slave; 
for  she  was  that  from  the  beginning." 

"  Excuse  me,"  the  judge  interrupted.  "  I  oughtn't 
to  let  you  go  on,  if  you  think  I  meant  to  imply 
what  you  have  inferred.  I  didn't  intend  to  insin 
uate  that  you  had  the  envy  of  a  successor." 

"Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  I  don't  mind  your 
knowing  what  I've  told  you."  Anther  stopped 
there,  as  if  he  had  lost  the  thread  of  his  thinking, 
and  the  judge  made  his  attempt  to  restore  it  to  him. 

"I  had  understood  that  Mrs.  Langbrith  was  the 
daughter  of  a  minister  in  the  country  near  here, 
and  was  employed  in  the  business  in  a  clerical 
capacity." 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"She  wasn't,"  the  doctor  said,  bluntly.  "Her 
father  was  a  starving  saint  in  the  hill  parish  where 
she  was  born ;  but  when  Langbrith  married  her  she 
was  a  hand  in  the  mills,  like  forty  other  girls.  It 
was  her  inherent  dignity  that  may  have  given  him 
the  notion  of  something  else.  Or  it  may  have  been 
his  dignity.  At  any  rate,  he  married  her  and  mar 
tyred  her,  even  to  the  blows  that  fell  upon  her  body 
as  well  as  her  soul.  I  don't  say  he  never  fancied 
her;  and  she  fancied  him,  poor  soul,  as  long  as  he 
would  let  her ;  and  when  she  lost  all  faith  in  him  she 
was  still  his  faithful  victim.  She  was  so  gentle  that, 
though  she  suffered,  she  could  not  resist  evil.  She 
was  born  to  keep  that  commandment.  He  could 
outrage  her  nature,  and  abuse  her  to  his  heart's  con 
tent,  and  he  could  count  absolutely  upon  her  silence. 
He  was  as  safe  from  her  as  from  the  God  he  found  so 
complaisant  to  his  wickedness." 

"Oh,  come,"  the  judge  remonstrated,  ironically 
still,  though  he  felt  the  indignant  passion  that  throb 
bed  in  Anther's  words  and  respected  it;  "you 
mustn't  allow  yourself  to  arraign  the  Deity  for  His 
way  of  doing  business.  How  do  you  know  but  our 
friend  is  paying  his  shot  now  in  what  is  not  perhaps 
*  the  easiest  room  in  hell'  ?" 

"Why  I  have  come  to  you" — Anther  made  an 
other  of  his  abrupt  breaks  from  the  direct  line — "is 
because  I  want  you  to  advise  me  what  to  do.  It 
is  all  open  between  her  and  me,  but  she  has  to  live 
in  subjection  to  some  one,  and  she  lives  in  subjec 
tion  to  her  son.  She  has  never  positively  deceived 
him  in  regard  to  his  father,  but  she  has  never  found 

116 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  time  to  tell  him  what  sort  of  man  his  father 
was." 

''It  would  have  been  difficult,"  the  judge  owned, 
somewhat  more  gravely. 

"I  have  thought  the  matter  over  a  thousand 
times,  and  tried  to  imagine  some  moment  when  she 
could  have  spoken  to  undeceive  him,  but  I  never 
could  make  it  out.  All  that  I  could  make  out  was 
that  every  moment's  delay  rendered  the  truth  more 
impossible."  The  judge  nodded  his  large  head  in 
unconscious  assent.  "As  time  went  on,  the  man 
became  a  sort  of  town  myth.  He  grew  into  the  tra 
dition  of  a  conscript  father,  the  founder  of  our  pros 
perity,  the  benefactor  of  the  community;  and  it 
would  have  been  an  insult  to  the  public  faith,  as 
well  as  a  terrible  ordeal  for  the  boy,  if  his  real  char 
acter  had  been  proclaimed." 

"I  see,"  the  judge  assented,  with  a  certain  pleas 
ure  in  the  perfection  of  the  situation. 

"It  became  a  sort  of  moral  necessity,"  Anther 
continued,  "to  leave  the  past  undisturbed,  to  let  the 
lie  remain.  The  only  man  who  might  have  un 
masked  Langbrith  living  was  held  from  it  by  the 
grip  Langbrith  had  of  his  throat,  and  Langbrith 
dead  has  been  safe  from  him  through  the  optimistic 
turn  his  opium  craze  has  taken  in  the  direction  of  a 
legend  of  close  friendship  between  them.  Besides, 
Hawberk's  repute  as  a  liar  had  become  so  firmly  es 
tablished  that  his  word  wouldn't  have  counted  in  a 
place  where  Langbrith' s  fair  fame  is  the  richest 
jewel  of  the  local  history.  There  couldn't  be  a 
more  acceptable,  a  more  entirely  popular,  thing  pro- 

117 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

posed  in  Saxmills  than  his  commemoration  in  the 
way  his  son  has  suggested.  It  wouldn't  cost  the 
town  anything,  and  it  would  be  such  a  credit  to  it!" 

The  doctor  laughed  for  helplessness,  and  the  judge 
joined  in  the  bitter  merriment.  "Yes,"  he  assented, 
with  the  ponderous  movement  of  his  mind  which 
found  expression  in  his  formal  and  weighty  diction, 
whether  he  joked  or  whether  he  adjudicated. 
"There  appears,  as  you  say,  doctor,  to  be  a  sort  of 
moral  necessity  to  let  lying  dogs  sleep,  if  we  may 
reverse  the  axiom,  especially  when  they  have  slept 
long.  What  is  the  advantage,  the  better  element 
might  ask,  of  rending  the  veil  of  oblivion  from  er 
rors  which  Providence  has  seen  fit  to  leave  in  the 
shadow,  doubtless  for  some  wise  purpose?  The 
morals  of  the  community,  they  would  contend, 
would  be  more  contaminated  by  the  effluvium  from 
our  late  fellow-townsman's  tomb,  if  we  were  to  open 
its  ponderous  and  marble  jaws  for  the  purpose  of 
drawing  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abode,  than 
if  we  were  to  leave  the  past  undisturbed.  They 
could  argue  that  his  success,  which  is  now  an  ex 
ample  and  an  incentive  to  light  our  young  men  on 
the  upward  way,  as  long  as  they  suppose  it  to  be 
founded  upon  virtue,  would  be  a  means  of  endless 
corruption  if  it  were  known  to  be  the  putrescent 
splendor  of  his  moral  rottenness,  and  would  prove 
an  ignis  fatuus  to  lure  them  into  the  abyss.  As  far 
as  our  community  is  concerned,  doctor,  I  think  you 
will  do  better  to  leave  the  late  Royal  Langbrith's 
memory  alone." 

"As  far  as  the  community  is  concerned,  Garley," 

118 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  doctor  returned,  hotly,  "I  think  you  are  per 
fectly  right.  But  that  isn't  the  point,  except  for 
the  psychological  publicist,  if  there  is  such  a  thing. 
I  am  interested  solely  in  the  personal  view." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

Anther  replied,  after  a  moment  of  silent  chagrin: 
"  I  hoped  you  might  have  inferred.  But  it  is  simply 
this :  Mrs.  Langbrith  and  I  both  have  the  belief  that 
our  marriage  would  be  abhorrent  to  her  son,  not  be 
cause  he  has  any  dislike  for  me — he  is  rather  fond 
of  me,  and  I  like  the  boy,  when  he  is  off  his  high 
horse  and  isn't  patronizing  me — " 

" He  patronizes  me,  too,"  the  judge  observed;  the 
doctor  ignored  his  reflection  in  proceeding. 

"  — but  because  he  has  this  extraordinary  infatua 
tion  for  his  father's  memory,  and  would  consider 
his  mother's  second  marriage  with  any  one  a  dese 
cration  not  to  be  voluntarily  endured.  Simply,  she 
is  afraid  to  bring  our  wish  to  his  knowledge,  and 
she  is  afraid  to  let  me  do  so.  I  have  been  almost  a 
father  to  the  boy  from  his  first  years;  and,  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  there  would  be  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  our  marriage  would  be  distasteful 
to  him.  But  as  it  is — " 

Anther  stopped,  and  the  judge  said,  with  the  air 
of  summing-up,  "Your  conclusion  is  that  the  def 
amation  of  his  father  is  the  only  means  of — " 

"Why  do  you  speak,"  Anther  cried  out,  "as  if 
his  father  were  an  innocent  man,  and  not  the  wick 
edest  and  filthiest  scoundrel  that  ever  lived?" 

"My  dear  old  friend,"  said  the  judge,  leaning 
forward  in  his  rocking-chair  and  laying  his  hand  on 

119 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  doctor's  arm,  ''let  us  be  careful  not  to  employ 
actionable  language,  even  in  regard  to  those  who 
can  only  cite  us  to  appear  before  the  higher  tribu 
nal,  which  has  no  jurisdiction  in  this  county,  or, 
so  far  as  I  know,  in  this  State.  I  quite  enter  into 
your  feelings,  and  I  should  be  the  first  to  wish  you 
joy  of  the  fulfilment  of  your  hopes,  the  fruition  of 
your  wishes.  But  you  will  certainly  not  further 
them  by  adopting  anything  like  a  violent  line  of  ex 
pression.  Now,  go  on.  The  boy  has  returned  to 
Harvard.  Have  you  seen  Mrs.  Langbrith  since?" 

"I  parted  with  her  in  anger  Sunday  night.  But 
she  had  tried  my  patience  beyond  endurance.  She 
proposed  to  me,  as  a  way  of  propitiating  James, 
that—  Anther  choked,  and  the  judge  had  to 
prompt  him : 

"She  proposed  to  you — ?" 

"Well,  that  I  should  humor  his  notion  of  putting 
up  this  memorial  to  his  father ;  that  I  should  stultify 
myself,  and  help  to  perpetuate  the — the — " 

"Careful,  careful!"  his  friend  suggested. 

"Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean!  I  don't  believe 
she  felt  the  enormity  of  it  as  I  did.  She  couldn't, 
in  that  meek  forgivingness  of  hers.  But  I  left 
her  in  anger — yes,  for  the  first  time;  and  I  don't 
see  my  way  to  making  her  understand  the  shame, 
the  iniquity — " 

"Really,  you  ought  to  have  been  a  doctor  of 
divinity!  I  think  we  can  leave  your  reconciliation 
with  her  to  nature,"  and  the  judge  finely  smiled  at 
the  doctor.  "  But  now,  in  regard  to  the  son's  unde- 
ception — or  shall  we  say  enlightenment  ? — is  it  your 

120 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

notion  that  some  third  party  might  undertake  the 
task  of  accomplishing  the  end  desired?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  what  my  notion  is,"  Anther 
replied,  rising  with  a  finality  which  he  expressed  in 
superfluously  buttoning  his  coat  about  him.  The 
day  was  a  warmish  day  in  April,  and  he  might  well 
have  found  his  winter  great -coat  uncomfortable, 
even  in  driving.  With  the  afternoon  sun  pouring 
into  the  thinly  shaded  windows  of  the  judge's  bare 
office,  it  was  almost  a  summer  heat  in  which  he  had 
been  sitting.  He  added,  with  a  quick  sigh,  "  I  didn't 
know  but  you  would  be  able  to  advise  me — " 

"I  will  think  it  over,"  the  judge  promised,  with 
bland  placidity,  and  he  turned  from  taking  leave  of 
his  friend  and  rearranged  some  papers  on  his  open 
desk.  "  By  -the  -way,"  he  called  after  Anther,  "I 
meant  to  ask  you:  the  brother,  who  has  charge  of 
the  business,  does  he  know  anything  of  this  double 
life  and  character?" 

"John  Langbrith?" 

"Yes.      How  long  has  he  been  in  charge?" 

"Oh,  ever  since  Langbrith's  death.  Somebody 
had  to  take  hold  of  the  business.  He  was  here  be 
fore  that." 

"But  nothing  has  ever  passed  between  you  and 
him  as  to  the  facts?" 

"Not  a  word.  They  were  not  things  I  could 
speak  of  first,  and  John  Langbrith  speaks  of  noth 
ing.  I  suppose  he  talks  business,  but  I  have  no 
business  to  talk  with  him." 

"Does  Mrs.  Langbrith  know  whether  he  knows?'* 

"We  have  never  mentioned   the  matter,  but  I 

121 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

don't  believe  she  does.  You  know  how  close  he  is. 
He  never  goes  to  her  except  on  business,  and  she 
has  never  seen  the  inside  of  his  house.  The  mill  is 
his  home." 

"In  his  way,  he  is  as  successful  a  secret  as  his 
brother?" 

"  Quite,"  the  doctor  said,  gloomily. 


XV 

ON  his  way  home  to  the  early  tea  which  Mrs.  Bur- 
well's  primitive  tradition  obliged  him  to  accept,  in 
place  of  anything  like  a  late  dinner  or  later  supper, 
Dr.  Anther  drove  by  the  Langbrith  mansion,  and 
looked  hard  at  it.  He  turned,  when  he  got  by, 
drove  back,  stopped  his  buggy  at  the  gate,  and  hur 
ried  up  the  brick  walk  to  the  door.  It  was  opened, 
before  he  could  ring,  by  Mrs.  Langbrith.  "Both 
the  girls  are  out,"  she  partially  explained,  and  she 
could  have  said  further  that  the  middle-aged  serv 
ing-women,  who  were  still  girls  to  her,  had  not  out 
lived  their  youthful  passion  for  mingling  with  the 
crowds  which  thronged  the  long  main  street  of  Sax- 
mills  on  pay-day,  and  that  she  had  yielded  to  it  for 
the  sake  of  the  pleasure  which  the  fine  weather 
would  add  to  their  outing.  But  he  paid  no  heed 
to  her  opening  words,  and  she  did  not  go  on. 

"Amelia,"  he  said,  with  the  fervid  rashness  that 
was  natural  to  him,  ' '  I  want  to  beg  your  pardon  for 
the  way  I  left  you  last  night." 

"Oh!"  she  murmured,  so  deeply  that  the  murmur 
was  almost  a  sob. 

Then  these  two  elderly  people  did  by  one  im 
pulse  what  they  had  never  done  before.  In  the 
dim  hall,  beyond  which  Anther  had  not  tried  to 

123 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

penetrate,  they  cast  themselves  into  each  other's 
arms,  and  he  kissed  one  cheek  of  hers,  while  she 
buried  the  other  in  his  neck,  and  smoothed  her 
silvered  brown  hair,  and  kept  saying  softly,  "Poor 
girl,  poor  girl,  poor  girl!" 

He  kissed  her  cheek  again,  and  then  he  walked 
slowly  and  thoughtfully  down  to  the  gate,  and  got 
into  his  buggy  and  let  his  horse  take  its  own  gait 
and  course.  Not  only  a  tender  patience  with  her 
swelled  Anther's  heart,  but  an  unwonted  tolerance 
for  young  Langbrith  also  found  room  for  itself  there. 
What  wonder  that  the  boy  was  reverent  of  his  fa 
ther's  memory,  since  he  knew  no  evil  of  him  ?  Was 
it  for  this  he  must  be  called  fool  and  despised  for  an 
ass?  Anther  saw  that  there  were  yet  many  steps 
to  be  taken  with  regard  both  to  him  and  his  mother, 
and  that  they  could  not  be  separated  in  relation  to 
himself.  He  softened  more  and  more  towards  the 
whole  situation,  and  momently  the  thought  of  the 
weakness  he  had  surprised  in  her  consecrated  and 
endeared  her  to  him. 

He  drove  along  the  village  street  with  his  figure 
stooped  well  towards  the  dash-board,  when  his  ears 
were  saluted  with  a  succession  of  girlish  trebles. 

"How  do,  doctor!" 

"How  do,  doctor!" 

"How  do,  Dr.  Anther!" 

He  looked  up  blankly,  and  presently  realized  that 
he  saw  Hope  Hawberk,  Jessamy  Colebridge,  and 
Susie  Johns,  walking,  with  arms  more  or  less  inter 
twined,  along  the  pavement  which  he  was  closely 
skirting  by  the  erratic  preference  of  his  horse. 

124 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

They  smiled  brightly  upon  his  daze,  and  nodded 
gayly  to  him,  hanging  over  one  another  and  laugh 
ing  at  him  over  their  shoulders  when  they  got  by. 
He  gathered  himself  together  to  call  back  to  them, 
"Oh,  how  do  you  do!"  and  the  charm  of  their  dif 
fering  prettiness  very  sweetly  possessed  him.  They 
were  like  his  own  children  to  him,  in  his  long  inti 
mate  acquaintance  with  their  ailments  as  a  physi 
cian,  and  with  their  accomplishments  as  chairman 
of  the  school  board.  Their  young  voices,  and  their 
arch,  familiar,  trustful  tones  made  the  blood  play 
warmly  about  his  heart,  and  he  let  his  horse  take 
him  home  to  supper  in  a  mood  which  he  could  not 
have  imagined  of  himself  when  he  parted  such  a 
little  while  ago  from  Judge  Garley. 

The  girls  walked  on  down  the  street  towards  the 
denser  part  of  the  town,  chattering,  singing  snatches 
of  song,  humming  and  laughing,  leaning  over  to 
mock  one  another,  and  then  straining  outward  or 
forward  in  their  fun.  They  sobered  as  they  got 
more  into  the  crowds  thronging  the  sidewalks,  till 
they  distinguished  themselves  from  the  mill-girls  by 
a  demure  state,  which  could  not  leave  one  in  doubt 
of  their  quality  as  village  girls  who  did  not  work  in 
the  mills.  Mill-hands  of  both  sexes  were  exuber 
antly  filling  the  street,  after  their  release  from  the 
week's  work,  in  a  tumult  of  shopping,  of  carrying 
on,  of  courting,  which  would  last  far  into  the  night. 
The  young  men  stood  at  the  corners  or  lounged 
along  the  curbstones,  smoking,  and  challenging  the 
girls  to  a  stand  which  here  and  there  stopped  the 
way  with  giggling  and  slanging  and  tussling  groups ; 

125 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  girls,  when  they  did  not  stop,  tossed  chaff  and 
sauce  at  the  young  men  over  their  shoulders  and 
tempted  them  to  pursuit,  as  they  passed  chewing 
gum.  But  neither  the  young  men  nor  the  girls 
molested  the  three  friends,  who  had  now  separated, 
and  were  pushing  sinuously  through  the  open  spaces 
towards  the  post-office.  The  mill-hands  knew  who 
each  of  them  was,  and  how  they  were  nearly  always 
together;  some  had  been  in  school  with  them, 
or  in  Sunday-school,  and  these  exchanged  nods 
with  them;  others  who  were  strangers  to  them 
looked  inimically  after  them,  as  representatives  of 
class. 

The  three  were  not  equally  friends,  though  they 
were  all  friends.  Hope  Hawberk  was  chief  among 
them,  and  Susie  Johns  was  next  her  in  the  under 
standing  that  Jessamy  Colebridge  was  capable  of 
being  silly  at  moments  when  the  others  would  rather 
have  died.  Without  being  untrue  to  her,  they  some 
times  laughed  a  little  at  her ;  but  that  did  not  keep 
either  of  them  from  laughing  a  little  with  her  at 
something  queer  in  the  other.  Susie  and  Jessamy 
both  knew  about  Hope's  father,  but  her  grand 
mother  was  of  a  family  which  no  one  in  Saxmills 
could  look  down  on.  Her  grandfather  had  been 
Squire  Southfield,  once  the  chief  lawyer  of  the  place, 
and  he  had  been  in  Congress;  though  that  was  a 
long  time  ago,  and  her  mother  had  certainly  mar 
ried  beneath  her  in  taking  Hope's  father.  He  was 
then  a  skilful  young  mechanic,  but  it  quite  passed 
the  knowledge  of  Hope's  friends  that  he  had  been  a 
very  fascinating  fellow,  whom  such  a  girl  as  Hope's 

126 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

mother  could  not  resist.  Hope  was  like  him  in  the 
dark  coloring  of  her  beauty,  her  dusky  hair,  and  her 
black  eyes;  but  there  was  a  passionate  irregularity 
of  her  mouth  when  she  smiled  which  was  the  trace 
of  her  mother's  stormy  temperament.  She  had 
really  more  of  her  father's  amiability,  which,  to  the 
strict  New  England  sense,  erred  almost  to  the  guilt 
of  easy-goingness.  His  dreams  had  not  begun  with 
opium.  There  were  psychologists  among  his  critics 
who  regarded  the  opium  as  the  logical  consequence 
of  his  dreams,  and  who,  if  they  had  been  asked  in 
time,  could  have  prophesied  from  the  first  all  that 
he  had  come  to  since. 

Neither  of  the  three  girls  expected  a  letter,  but 
when  it  seemed  that  there  really  was  a  letter  for 
Susie  Johns,  Jessamy  confessed  her  own  disappoint 
ment  with  a  quick  "Oh,  dear!"  in  taking  the  letter 
from  the  girl  clerk  behind  the  boxes,  who  severely 
announced,  "  Ain't  nothing  for  you  or  Plope."  But 
Hope,  if  she  had  a  disappointment,  hid  it  under  a 
laugh. 

She  caught  the  letter  from  Susie's  lax  hand,  and 
said,  "  Let  me  read  it  for  you,  Susie  dear,"  and  Susie 
wrinkled  her  nose,  and  said,  "Well,  you  may." 
But  Hope  contented  herself  with  looking  at  the 
post-mark. 

Jessamy  joined  her  in  the  inspection,  and  it  was 
she  who  proclaimed  their  joint  discovery.  "  It's 
from  Boston!  Why,  Susie  Johns,  who's  been  writ 
ing  to  you  from  Boston  ?  Oh,  I'll  bet  it's  Mr.  Falk." 

It  appeared  that  the  letter  was  really  from  Mr. 
Palk,  but  not  till  the  girls  had  left  the  anteroom  of  the 

127 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

post-office  and  made  their  way  back  homeward  on  the 
up-hill  street  leading  out  of  the  business  thorough 
fare.  Then,  when  they  could  have  the  whole  side 
walk  to  themselves  again,  each  of  the  others  passed 
a  hand  through  Susie's  arms  and  prepared  herself 
to  help  her  make  out  any  hard  words,  leaning  for 
ward  in  readiness.  Jessamy  kept  babbling  as 
Susie  read  her  letter  silently  through,  and  by  the 
time  she  reached  the  end  Jessamy  was  offering  the 
twentieth  variant  of  her  wonder:  "What  in  the 
world  is  he  writing  to  you  about?" 

"Oh,  it's  just  manners,"  Susie  responded  serene 
ly.  "I  suppose  he  thought  he  ought  to  write  and 
say  something  pleasant  about  his  visit  here." 

"Is  that  all?"  Jessamy  innocently  protested,  and 
this  made  Hope  laugh. 

"What  else  did  you  expect  there  would  be?" 
Susie  folded  the  letter  up  and  put  it  back  in  the 
envelope. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  He  might  have  sent  some 
message!" 

"He  did.  He  said  'give  his  regards  to  all  in 
quiring  friends/  " 

"  Oh,  that  sounds  nice.  It's  just  what  we  say- 
village  people.  But  I  believe  Mr.  Falk  isn't  from 
a  very  large  town.  Only  you  always  think  students 
must  be  like  city  folks.  Dear,  I  wish  I  had  a  let 
ter." 

"Well,"  Hope  said,  "I'll  ask  Harry  Matthewson 
to  write  you  one." 

"No,  you  mustn't,  Hope.     Will  you,  really?" 

Susie  squealed,  "Jessamy  Colebridge,  you  cer- 

128 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

tainly  are  almost  a  goose";  and  Hope  said,  "Well, 
I  won't  if  you  don't  want  me  to." 

They  had  come  to  Jessamy's  gate,  and  Hope  push 
ed  her  arm  through  Susie's  and  ran  her  on,  while 
Jessamy  stood  looking  in  rueful  puzzle  after  them. 

"Jessamy  is  such  a  simpleton.  I  should  think 
she  was  a  child  of  ten  yet."  Hope  put  her  face 
down  on  Susie's  shoulder  and  laughed,  and  when 
she  lifted  it  Susie  put  her  face  down  on  Hope's 
shoulder  and  laughed.  Then  Susie  offered  to  let 
Hope  read  Falk's  letter ;  but  Hope  had  never  shown 
her  the  letter  which  she  had  got  from  Langbrith  the 
Monday  before. 


XVI 

BEYOND  the  village,  the  little  lake  from  which  the 
mills  drew  their  power  had  been  clear  of  ice  for  weeks, 
but  its  waters  had  kept  the  look  of  winter.  The 
logs  weltering  at  the  gates  where  the  current  which 
was  to  grind  them  into  pulp  left  the  lake,  dipped 
and  lifted  with  a  cold,  wet  gleam  as  they  pushed  at 
the  pales  on  the  pull  of  the  stream.  A  day  came 
when  the  whole  aspect  of  the  landscape  changed. 
No  leaf  had  started,  and  scarcely  a  bud  had  swelled 
on  the  water-elms  that  showed  their  black  trunks 
and  boughs  amid  the  green  gloom  of  the  pines 
and  spruces  overhanging  the  shores,  and  the  white 
nakedness  of  the  birches  had  not  yet  clothed  itself, 
except  for  a  thin  veil  of  catkins.  But  the  water 
had  taken  a  warmth  of  tone  from  the  sky,  which 
was  of  a  deep  blue,  heaped  with  milky  clouds  rough 
ed  to  a  superficial  dusk  by  the  southern  wind.  Blue 
birds  rose  and  sank  with  the  rhythm  of  their  queru 
lous  notes  in  their  short  flights  about  the  farmsteads 
and  village  houses.  The  robins  in  the  chilly  morn 
ings  and  evenings  shouted  from  the  door-yard 
trees.  Ragged  lines  of  blackbirds  drifted  with  a 
glassy  clatter  over  the  woods  and  rested  in  their 
tops,  or  slanted  towards  the  water,  where  they 
showed  their  iridescent  splendors,  as  they  strutted 

130 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

up  and  down  on  the  logs  and  parleyed  harshly  to 
gether. 

Hawberk  sat  tilted  in  his  chair  against  the  south 
ern  house-wall  where  the  sun  struck  into  the  garden, 
and  listened  with  a  dim  smile  to  their  clatter,  com 
ing  over  to  him  through  a  cleft  of  the  land  that 
let  the  lake  shine  through  below  the  hill.  He  had 
begun  the  joyful  day  with  half  a  gill  of  laudanum, 
and  he  was  feeling  the  primary  effect  of  the  drug  in 
the  delicious  lassitude  he  won  from  it  at  continually 
increasing  cost.  He  was  smiling,  not  only  at  the 
noise  of  the  blackbirds,  but  at  the  comfort  of  the  cat, 
which  had  found  the  stone  warm  at  the  base  of  the 
sundial  in  the  walk  of  the  little  garden,  and  lay 
coiled  there.  He  liked  the  look  of  the  dishevelled 
beds,  where  the  dry  litter  of  the  last  summer's  stalks 
and  stems  was  mixed  with  the  tawny  blades  of 
the  grassy  borders,  and  he  liked  the  softly  waving 
plumes  of  the  pines  which  beckoned  to  him  from 
the  brow  of  the  hill  behind  the  little  dwelling.  He 
heard,  with  the  same  sensuous  pleasure,  the  jar  of 
the  mills  below  the  street  on  which  the  house  fronted, 
and  he  vaguely  recalled  the  relation  his  life  once 
had  to  that  busy  sound,  now  no  more  to  him  than 
the  idle  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  pine  tops  with 
which  it  was  effectively  one.  Exquisite  thrills  pass 
ed  through  his  relaxing  nerves,  and  the  twitching 
of  his  muscles  was  divinely  voluptuous.  Then, 
suddenly,  he  was  in  that  pit  again,  out  of  which  he 
had  slowly  fought  his  way  at  the  Retreat,  but  which 
he  knew  he  must  now  sink  back  into  day  by  day. 
The  green  dwarf  was  there  as  he  had  not  been  for 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

a  long  time,  and  was  at  his  work  of  slowly  filling  in 
the  sides  of  the  pit,  making  it  smaller  and  smaller, 
and  arabesquing  its  surfaces  with  patterns  of  men's 
bones.  He  choked  in  the  thickening  air  and  dug 
his  way  upward  with  his  hands,  toiling  for  months, 
for  years,  for  ages;  but  the  pit  was  always  filled  in 
again,  and  its  roof  and  sides  faced  with  those  hid 
eous  arabesques.  After  centuries,  he  saw  the  light 
break  through  from  above;  then  the  dwarf  came 
slowly  overhead,  and  covered  him  in  again  and  shut 
out  the  light.  The  groans  of  his  torment  ascended 
continually;  when  the  dwarf  extinguished  the  last 
gleam,  the  horror  was  such  that  it  burst  into  a 
scream  of  despair — a  cry  of  agony  so  sharp  that 
it  cut  his  dream  asunder,  and  he  woke  with  cold 
sweat,  and  saw  the  cat  dozing  at  the  base  of  the 
dial. 

"Father,  father!"  the  voice  of  Hope  called,  while 
she  caught  his  reeking  hand  in  hers. 

He  tilted  forward  out  of  his  chair,  trembled  to  his 
feet,  and  stared  around,  gasping. 

"Oh,  Hope,  child,  don't  let  me  sleep,  don't  ever 
let  me  sleep  again.  How  long  have  I  been  here?" 

"Only  while  I  could  go  in  and  get  my  hat  and  a 
book  to  read  to  you.  Grandma  wanted  me  a  min 
ute." 

"It  seemed  eternity.  Don't  let  me  sleep  again. 
I'm  all  right  if  I  don't  sleep.  Promise  me  that." 

"  Well,  I  won't,  father.  But  come  now — or  aren't 
you  able  to  go  up  the  hill  with  me?"  He  had  sunk 
back  into  his  chair,  and  she  kissed  his  forehead, 
blotched  from  the  opium,  with  its  sunken  eyes  be- 

132 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

neath  it,  and  the  red  scars  seaming  his  cheeks,  from 
which  a  sickening  odor  came.  "But  must  you? — 
must  you?" 

4 'Yes,  yes,  I  must.  Don't  talk  to  me  that  way. 
I  must,  I  tell  you.  If  I  had  a  little,  now!  Where 
is  it?" 

"  In  your  room.     I'll  get  it,  if  you  say  so — " 

"Well,  get  it  then,  quick,  quick!  I  don't  want 
to  sleep  again." 

"Don't  be  afraid.     I'll  be  back  in  a  second." 

She  vanished,  and  reappeared  with  a  bottle  in  her 
hand  which  she  put  into  his  shaking  hold. 

He  pushed  it  to  his  lips  without  looking  at  it. 
When  he  had  drained  it  he  glanced  at  the  empty 
bottle.  "Was  that  all?" 

"Yes,  every  bit.  But  I  can  get  some  more  this 
afternoon  if  you  want  it." 

"Of  course  I  want  it;  it  puts  life  into  me.     Ah!" 

He  drew  a  long  breath  and  stretched  himself. 
"That's  something  like.  Now  come  on."  He  laid 
his  shaking  hand  on  her  arm,  and  they  began  to 
climb  the  hill  together  on  the  path  that  found  its 
way  upward  by  little  juts  of  the  ledge,  and  little 
turns  round  them,  and  over  the  rough  surfaces 
where  the  thin  soil  left  the  rock  bare.  "It's  aston 
ishing  what  it  does  for  a  man.  It's  all  that  keeps 
me  up,  in  these  enterprises.  But  don't  you  ever 
touch  it,  Hope.  It's  the  best  of  servants,  but  the 
worst  of  masters.  If  I  didn't  know  how  to  control 
it  so  well,  it  would  play  the  mischief  with  me." 

Hope  said,  with  the  lightness  which  all  the  horror 
of  the  situation  could  not  sadden  in  her,  "And  even 

133 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

you  don't  seem  to  have  the  upperhand  always, 
father." 

Hawberk  laughed  in  sympathy  with  her  lightness. 
"That's  a  fact,  Hope.  But  it's  very  seldom.  The 
great  thing  is  to  know  when  to  pull  up.  I'm  all 
right  as  long  as  I'm  awake,  and  there's  nothing  like 
it  to  keep  you  awake.  You've  got  to  use  it  regular 
ly  if  you  want  to  get  the  good  of  it." 

"  Well,  you've  wanted  to  get  the  good  of  it  about 
two  hours  too  soon  to-day,  father,"  she  said,  with 
caressing  mockery. 

"Why,  what  time  is  it?" 

"About  eleven." 

"Lord,  I  thought  it  was  after  dinner,  and  I'd  gone 
by  my  time.  You  oughtn't  to  have  given  it  all  to 
me,  Hope.  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  now  till 
night." 

"I'll  get  some  more  for  you  from  Dr.  Anther. 
He  wanted  you  to  have  it." 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  I  believe  he  wants 
to  keep  it  away  from  me,  though  he  knows  it's  the 
only  thing  that  will  carry  me  through  this  pinch  of 
work.  I  want  you  to  go  right  after  dinner  for  it — 
before  he  starts  on  his  visits." 

"I  will,  I  will,  father." 

"  It's  the  only  thing  that  will  keep  me  awake,  and 
as  long  as  I  don't  sleep  I'm  all  right." 

"  Well,  I  should  think  you  would  find  it  pretty 
hard  to  manage  without  any  sleep  at  all,"  Hope 
said,  always  in  the  same  drolling  fashion.  "Why 
don't  you  try  to  stop  it  altogether?" 

"That's  just  what  I'm  going  to  do  when  I  get 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

through  this  pinch.  I've  talked  it  all  over  with  Dr. 
Anther.  We've  got  the  whole  thing  mapped  out, 
down  to  the  last  dot." 

They  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  in  their  talk, 
which  had  had  as  much  silence  as  parlance  in  it. 

Hawberk  let  go  the  arm  to  which  he  had  been 
clinging  less  and  less  dependently,  and  straightened 
his  bent,  wasted  frame. 

"Fine!  fine!"  he  said,  looking  dimly  out  of  the 
caverns  under  his  brows  at  the  prospect.  "  I  think 
I  shall  put  the  house  right  here.  You  know  I've 
bought  this  hill,  Hope?" 

"  No,  I  didn't,  father.  But  I'm  not  the  least  sur 
prised  to  hear  it.  You  keep  buying  all  sorts  of 
things."  She  had  settled  herself  on  the  warm,  brown 
needles  under  the  pine  where  he  stood;  and,  as  she 
spoke,  she  pulled  her  skirt  closely  about  her  knees 
and  folded  it  under  them.  He  looked  down  into  her 
face,  and  they  both  laughed. 

"  But  this  is  a  fact,  Hope.  That  last  little  thing 
of  mine  is  doing  so  well  in  the  hands  of  those  peo 
ple  at  Boston  that  I've  decided  to  build  here.  We 
haven't  passed  the  papers  yet,  but  I've  got  old  Ar- 
lingham's  agreement  to  sell.  Drew  it  up  yesterday 
before  Judge  Garley,  and  left  it  with  him.  I'm  going 
to  have  an  architect  make  the  plans.  It's  to  be  for 
you,  Hope." 

"Me?  Oh  my!  I  like  the  little  old  place  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  well  enough." 

"  It's  well  enough  for  your  grandmother  and  me, 
but  I  want  you  to  have  a  decent  place  when— 

"Well,  well!  That's  all  right,  father;  and  I'm 
135 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ever  so  much  obliged.  But  you  better  sit  down  and 
have  a  rest  before  you  begin  building."  She  kept 
the  same  joking  tone,  but  there  was  a  sort  of  ner 
vousness  in  the  haste  with  which  she  cut  him  off 
from  the  topic,  and  hastened  to  say,  "I'll  read  to 
you  now." 

Hawberk  obeyed,  and  leaned  his  bared  head 
against  the  trunk  of  the  pine  at  whose  foot  he  sank ; 
his  eyes  closed,  and  he  instantly  started  forward, 
with  a  shudder  and  a  cry  of  "  Ugh!" 

She  closed  on  her  thumb  the  book  which  she  had 
just  opened,  and  asked,  gravely,  "  Was  it  the  green 
one?" 

"  It's  always  the  green  one,  now,"  he  lamented. 

"Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what,  father:  you're 
getting  pretty  bad  again." 

"No,  no!  I'm  all  right — or  I  shall  be,  if  I  can 
keep  awake.  I  guess  you  better  talk  to  me,  Hope. 
Better  not  read.  Seems  to  set  me  off  at  once. 
You'd  just  as  lief  talk,  wouldn't  you?" 

"Oh  yes.  It  doesn't  matter  to  me.  You'll  do 
the  talking,  anyway." 

Hawberk  laughed.  "I  guess  that's  about  so, 
Hope.  The  reason  I  want  you  to  have  this  place 
here  is  because  Langbrith  and  I  used  to  talk  about 
building  here  together.  We  used  to  be  great  cronies, 
Royal  Langbrith  and  I  did,  and  it  seems  quite  ap 
propriate— 

"Now,  look  here,  father,"  the  girl  broke  in, 
"  you're  getting  on  to  forbidden  ground.  You  may 
choose  any  other  subject  to  talk  about,  and  I'm 
with  you,  but  I  can't  follow  you  there." 

136 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Oh,  all  right,  I  wasn't  going  to.  But  now  let  me 
tell  you  the  kind  of  a  house  I've  got  in  my  head  for 
this  place.  Of  course,  some  of  these  pines  will  have 
to  come  down."  He  got  up,  and  began  to  walk 
about  and  take  in  the  shape  of  the  ground,  and 
pace  off  certain  measurements,  and  look  up  at  the 
different  trees.  "  But  I  shall  leave  a  row  of  them 
in  front,  and  a  lot  off  to  the  side,  here."  He  gest 
ured  towards  the  right,  as  he  came  back,  and  sat 
down  again.  "  But  all  back  of  here  the  trees  have 
got  to  go.  I  want  to  have  you  a  good  big  garden 
behind  the  house." 

"  Well,  I'm  almost  sorry  for  that,"  Hope  humored 
his  fancy.  "  I  believe  I'd  rather  have  the  pines  than 
the  garden.  They  do  smell  so  nice,  with  this  sun 
on  them." 

"That's  a  fact,"  her  father  assented,  sniffing  the 
balsamic  odors  that  the  heat  drew  from  the  boughs 
softly  stirring  themselves  in  the  wind.  "Well,  I'll 
leave  as  many  as  I  can,  Hope."  He  broke  off  with, 
"  What  sort  of  young  fellow  is  that  one  who  was  up 
here  at  Easter,  with  James?" 

"He's  pretty  nice,  I  believe.  What  makes  you 
ask  ?"  Her  own  question  had  something  of  the  anx 
iety  in  it  which  marked  her  escape  from  his  ap 
proaches  to  the  forbidden  topic  of  Langbrith. 

"  Oh,  nothing.  They  tell  me  he's  something  of  a 
draughtsman — kind  of  artist." 

"Yes,  I  told  you  that.     What  of  it?" 

"Nothing.  But  I've  thought  some  of  employing 
him  to  illustrate  the  advertisements  of  that  last  lit 
tle  thing  of  mine.  Those  people  down  at  Boston 

137 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

are  going  to  have  it  written  up  in  great  shape  for 
the  back  part  of  the  magazines,  and  I  want  to  have 
pictures.  Suppose  he  could  do  them?" 

"Yes,  I  should  think  so.  But  now,  look  here, 
father:  you  mustn't  go  talking  this  around." 

"No,  no!  I  just  mentioned  it  to  Dr.  Anther  the 
other  day.  He  thinks  very  well  of  it." 

"Did  you  say  anything  about  James,  to  him?" 

"No,  no,  no!     Not  a  word." 

"Nor  to  anybody  else?" 

"Why,  I  haven't  been  home  long  enough  to  see 
anybody  else." 

Hope  left  that  subject.  "Well,  now,  I'll  tell  you 
what,  father.  I  think  after  you  get  through  this 
pinch,  as  you  call  it,  you  had  better  talk  with  Dr. 
Anther  about  leaving  off,  gradually." 

"Why,  that's  exactly  what  we  did  talk  about  the 
last  time  I  saw  him.  We've  fixed  up  a  splendid 
plan.  The  doctor's  all  right.  I  told  him  what  I 
thought  the  weak  points  at  the  Retreat  were,  and 
he  agreed  with  me  right  along.  He's  going  to  study 
into  my  case.  It's  peculiar.  I've  kept  it  up  so 
long,  and  yet  there  hasn't  been  a  day  when  I  couldn't 
have  left  it  off.  My  idea  is  to  stop  the  thing  short 
off.  No  dilly-dallying." 

Hawberk's  words  expressed  an  energy  which  his 
weak  tones  and  his  stumbling  gait  in  his  restless 
movement  to  and  fro  as  he  talked  altogether  be 
lied.  Hope  sat  watching  him,  with  a  face  which 
her  mocking  words  in  turn  belied  when  she  spoke. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  manage  to  catch  a  lit 
tle  waking  spell  every  now  and  then  till  I've 

138 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

been  to  the  doctor's  ?  I  don't  want  that  green  one 
round  when  I'm  gone,  even  if  he  isn't  real." 

Hawberk  laughed  joylessly.  "  He's  got  to  stay 
away  till  night,  now,  anyway.  I  can  manage  him. 
Don't  you  be  afraid.  I'll  get  your  grandmother  to 
give  me  a  good  strong  cup  of  coffee  at  dinner,  and 
that  will  help  to  keep  him  down." 

"Well,  shall  I  read  now?" 

"Yes,  read  away.  I'll  keep  moving;  or  if  I  get  to 
dozing  when  I  stop  to  rest,  poke  me  with  this  stick." 

He  gave  her  a  fallen  bough  which  he  stripped  of 
its  dead  needles  and  broke  to  a  stout  club,  and  she 
took  it  in  the  drolling  humor  which  formed  the  at 
mosphere  of  their  companionship. 

There  was  enough  of  this  feeling  in  her  face  and 
voice  to  make  Anther  pause  a  moment  when  she 
asked  him,  a  few  hours  later,  "  Doctor,  can't  some 
thing  be  done  about  father?"  She  sat  with  the 
stout  bottle  of  laudanum  which  Anther  had  given 
her  in  her  hand,  and  tilted  it  back  and  forth  on  her 
knee. 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?"  he  finally  asked. 

"  Well,  to  make  him  stop  it." 

The  doctor  rose  and  closed  his  door,  and  then  sat 
down  again  and  kept  his  eyes  absently  on  her  smil 
ing  face,  as  if  his  mind  were  at  work  beneath  its 
surface,  sgekifig  the  measure  of  her  portion  in  the 
suffering  to" 'which  her  young  life  was  helplessly  re 
lated.  He  was  not  likely  to  exaggerate  her  sym 
pathetic  suffering.  He  had  seen  how  the  young 
life  is  always  defended  from  the  worst  misery  of  the 
old;  how  from  their  common  source  it  flows  on  in 

139 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  same  channel,  and  takes  no  tint  or  taint  from 
the  concurrent  stream,  but  keeps  itself  pure  and 
glad  side  by  side  with  the  darkest  anguish. 

''Do  you  know  how  much  he's  taking  now?" 

"  I  guess  he's  got  back  to  nearly  the  old  quantity/' 

Anther  waited  again  before  he  spoke.  "  I  didn't 
expect  it  so  soon  after  he  had  got  home." 

"I  don't  think  the  Retreat  did  him  much  good. 
But  I  believe  you  could,  Dr.  Anther." 

"I  don't  know,  my  dear!     Does  he  believe  it?" 

"  Oh,  he  believes  in  you;  and  I  know  he  would  like 
to  make  an  effort  to  stop  it.  I  know  he'd  help  you. 
I  don't  know  what  he's  going  to  do.  He  has  got 
to  sleep,  of  course,  but  the  minute  he  goes  off  he 
begins  dreaming,  and  that  green  one  comes,  he  says, 
and  tries  to  wall  him  in.  It's  pretty  awful."  She 
laughed  in  a  queer  way,  and  then  the  tears  burst 
from  her  eyes.  "You  must  think  I'm  a  strange 
person,  to  laugh  at  such  things." 

"No,  no,"  the  doctor  said,  tenderly.  "I  under 
stand,  Hope." 

"I  suppose  it's  my  being  used  to  it  all  my  life 
that  I  don't  realize  it  as  some  others  would.  And 
then  father  is  so  funny  when  he  tells  about  it,  and 
acts  it  out,  as  he  does.  I  suppose  I'm  like  him.  He 
knows  it's  nothing,  as  well  as  you  do.  But  it's  real 
while  it  lasts." 

"  Yes,"  Anther  said.  "  But  you're  right  not  to  dis 
tress  yourself  about  it,  Hope.  That  wouldn't  do  any 
good,  and  you  can  help  your  father  best  as  you  are." 

"  Well,  I  am  afraid  I  am  of  a  light  nature.  Grand 
ma  says  so.  Now  and  then  it  all  comes  to  me,  what 

140 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

he  goes  through,  and  then" — she  quivered  on  the 
verge  of  a  sob,  but  controlled  herself  and  said,  "  Well, 
I  didn't  make  myself;  and  I  haven't  got  myself  to 
blame  for  ever  forgetting  him,  anyway." 

"I  know  that,  my  dear."  Anther  sat  thinking, 
till  Hope  recalled  herself  to  him. 

"  Don't  you  believe  it's  worth  while  to  try  again, 
doctor?" 

"Yes,  indeed!     We  must  never  give  up  trying." 

Anther  rose  again,  and  opened  the  silk-lined  glass 
doors  which  shut  in  the  shelves  where  he  kept  his 
office-supply  of  drugs,  and  began  mixing  a  bottle 
from  various  bottles  before  him.  He  shook  the 
mixture  vigorously,  with  his  thumb  over  the  mouth 
of  the  bottle,  and  then  corked  it,  made  a  little  pencil- 
mark  on  the  top  of  the  cork,  and  gave  the  bottle  to 
Hope.  It  was  quite  like  the  bottle  of  laudanum, 
in  size  and  shape.  "There!"  he  said.  "I've  mark 
ed  the  cork  so  that  you'll  know  it,  and  I  want  you 
to  keep  it  where  you  can  substitute  it  for  the  lauda 
num  every  other  time.  Understand?" 

"Yes,  I  understand,  but — " 

"  It  won't  hurt  him  if  he  gets  the  laudanum  bottle, 
now  and  then,  instead  of  this;  it  may  even  help  to 
tide  him  over  a  bad  place.  But  try  to  make  the 
alternations  regular.  Gradually — " 

"  Yes,  but  hadn't  he  better  break  it  off  altogether 
— at  once?" 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "  It  might  do  in  some 
cases,  but  it  won't  do  in  his."  At  something  insist 
ent  in  the  girl's  face  he  said:  "You want  a  reason? 
Well,  because  we've  tried  it  once.  It  was  a  good 

141 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

while  ago,  when  you  were  little,  and  before  you  were 
old  enough  to  know  anything  about  it.  We  agreed 
to  stop  it  short  off.  We  agreed  with  Wason,  the 
apothecary,  he  was  then — young  Wason 's  father- 
that  he  wasn't  to  let  your  father  have  anything 
without  my  orders  on  any  conditions  whatever.  I 
took  his  laudanum  away,  and  the  third  night  he 
came  to  me  half-dressed,  through  the  blinding  snow, 
and  woke  me,  and  made  me  give  him  the  laudanum. 
I  have  always  been  humbly  thankful  that  I  had  the 
sense  to  do  it,  and  I  have  never  tried  to  stop  him 
short  off  since.  I  tell  you  this,  for  I  don't  want  you 
to  let  him  tempt  you  into  any  experiment  like  that. 
He  is  quite  likely  to  smash  his  laudanum  and  try 
to  go  it  on  the  other  alone." 

"I  know  it!"  Hope  smiled  in  recognition  of  her 
father's  optimism.  "  He  does  feel  so  sure  of  himself 
when  he  makes  his  good  resolutions!" 

She  rose,  with  a  large  bottle  in  either  hand,  and  the 
doctor,  seeing  how  she  was  cumbered,  said:  "I'm 
going  up  your  way.  Get  into  the  buggy  with  me, 
and  let  me  take  you  home.  Nobody  else  seems 
coming  to-day." 

When  she  was  tucked  in  beside  him,  he  let  the 
old  horse  jog  at  will  in  the  direction  he  had  given, 
and  resumed  the  talk  broken  off  in  the  office.  "  Does 
he  take  to  the  same  hopeful  view  of  things  generally 
as  ever?" 

"  Well,  whenever  he  can  get  away  from  the  green 
dwarf,  he  does,"  the  girl  said.  "You  know,"  she 
smiled  across  her  shoulder  into  the  doctor's  face, 
"he  has  bought  the  hill  back  of  our  house?" 

142 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I  think  he  mentioned  it,"  the  doctor  returned, 
with  the  same  quality  of  smile. 

"  Yes,  he's  going  to  build  for  me  there.  Nothing 
can  stop  him.  Doctor,"  she  went  on  with  a  note 
of  tragical  imploring  which  had  not  got  into  any 
thing  else  she  had  said  of  her  father,  "did  he  speak 
to  you  about — about — James  Langbrith?" 

She  gasped  out  the  name,  and  nervously  put  her 
hand  on  the  doctor's,  pinching  the  buckskin  of  his 
glove  between  her  little  thumb  and  forefinger.  "  Be 
cause  there  isn't — there  isn't —  Oh,  it  would  kill 
me  if  I  thought  he  was  talking  to  people!" 

"Oh,  poor  thing!"  said  the  doctor.  "Don't 
worry!  He  did  speak  to  me,  but,  of  course,  I  un 
derstood." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  his  speaking  to  you,"  she  said. 
"You're  like  one  of  the  family;  but — but — " 

"Well,  you  needn't  be  afraid.  You  know  he  sees 
almost  nobody  out  of  your  own  house  but  me;  I 
cautioned  him  against  talking  of  that  matter,  and 
he  usually  regards  what  I  say." 

"I  suppose  it's  just  the  dreadfulness  of  it  that 
scares  me.  But  it  would  be  more  than  I  could  bear. 
Will  you  speak  to  him  again,  doctor?" 

"Yes,  yes,  I  will,  my  dear.  Don't  you  worry!" 
Anther  turned  his  face  away,  and  smiled  to  realize 
that  the  girl  who  could  keep  her  courage  in  the  face 
of  misery  like  her  father's  should  lose  all  her  strength 
at  the  thought  of  having  her  name  coupled  with  the 
name  of  the  young  man  who  loved  her,  and  made 
the  talk  of  the  village.  But  that  was  youth,  and 
that  was  life.  "Don't  you  be  troubled!"  he  said, 

143 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

looking  at  her  again.     "  Nobody  would  mind  what 
he  said." 

"Is  that  much  comfort?"  she  asked. 

"  It's  the  most  there  is,"  he  answered.  They 
drove  along  in  silence  broken  by  the  rattling  of  the 
loosened  nuts  in  the  framework  of  the  old  buggy, 
and  the  dull  clump-clump  of  the  horse's  hoofs  on 
the  road.  Suddenly,  as  if  at  the  end  of  a  sharp  de 
cision,  he  asked,  "  Hope,  does  your  father  ever  speak 
of  James's  father?" 

"  Why,  yes,  he  always  says  what  friends  they  used 
to  be— cronies.  He  says  he  was  the  best  friend  he 
ever  had.  He  was,  wasn't  he?" 

"  Oh  yes — yes,"  Anther  said  in  a  lie  that  sickened 
him;  but  he  had  brought  the  necessity  of  it  upon 
himself,  and  he  could  only  hang  his  averted  head  in 
merited  shame.  "I  didn't  know  but  sometimes  he 
took  the  other  turn.  You  know,"  he  went  lying 
on,  "how  his  mind  works  by  contraries." 

"Oh  yes,  I  know  that,"  Hope  said,  and  she  did 
not  reason  to  the  corollary,  in  her  concern  with  the 
more  personal  fact.  "  But  that  wouldn't  help  if  he 
got  people  gossiping  about  me." 

It  came  to  Anther  again,  as  it  had  come  before, 
that  each  generation  exists  to  itself,  and  is  so  full 
of  its  own  events  that  those  of  the  past  cannot  be 
livingly  transmitted  to  it;  that  it  divinely  refuses 
the  burden  which  elder  sins  or  sorrows  would  lay 
upon  it,  and  that  it  must  do  this  perhaps  as  a  con 
dition  of  bearing  its  own.  He  idly  flicked  the  road 
with  the  lash  of  the  whip  which  he  so  seldom  laid 
upon  the  back  of  his  lazy  old  horse. 

144 


XVII 

A  LETTER  for  Hope  came  from  Langbrith  the  day 
after  he  went  back  to  Cambridge,  and  letters  had 
come  from  him  at  frequent,  irregular  intervals  since. 
They  were  nearly  all  of  the  same  tenor,  growing 
more  urgent  and  impatient  in  their  protest  of  his 
love  for  her,  and  in  his  demand  for  some  answer 
more  definite  than  she  had  been  willing  to  give.  She 
had  gone  no  further  than  to  say,  "I  do  not  know 
whether  I  care  for  you  or  not,  in  the  way  you  mean. 
I  should  not  think  our  being  children  together  had 
anything  to  do  with  it.  If  it  had,  I  ought  to  hate 
you,  because  you  always  used  to  try  to  domineer 
over  me.  If  it  is  any  comfort  to  you,  I  will  say 
that  I  do  not  hate  you,  but  that  is  the  most  I  can 
say  now.  As  for  promising  anything,  that  is  ridic 
ulous  as  long  as  I  am  not  certain.  I  am  going  to 
keep  myself  as  free  as  the  air,  so  that  if  any  one 
comes  along  that  I  like  better  I  shall  not  be  bound 
to  refuse  him.  But  there  are  such  droves  of  young 
men  passing  through  Saxmills  all  the  time,  I  may 
not  be  able  to  choose.  If  anything  can  make  me 
choose  somebody  else,  it  will  be  asking  so  much  to 
choose  you.  I  don't  like  to  be  followed  up." 

Langbrith  tried  to  read  the  meaning  into  her  let 
ters  which  he  could  so  little  read  out  of  them.  But 

145 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

when  it  came  to  this  last  declaration  of  hers  he 
thought  it  best  to  forbear,  and  in  his  answer  he  held 
his  hand  altogether.  He  did  not  recur  to  anything 
she  had  said,  but  made  his  letter,  not  without  re 
sentment,  about  Falk  and  their  contributions  to 
Caricature,  and  about  some  teas  and  dances  which 
he  had  been  going  to  in  Boston.  He  wished  to 
philosophize  these  social  facts,  and  contrast  the 
manners  and  customs  of  Saxmills  with  those  of  the 
town.  It  was  his  conclusion  that,  with  some  super 
ficial  advantages,  the  city  was  not  politer  than  the 
village.  "The  society  buds  here  have  a  rudeness 
which  strikes  me  as  worse  than  the  freedom  among 
our  village  girls,  which  would  shock  them.  People 
talk  of  the  decay  of  social  life  in  the  country ;  but  I 
shall  be  very  well  satisfied  to  settle  down  at  Sax- 
mills,  when  I  have  got  all  my  tools,  and  go  to  work 
there  for  life.  By-the-way,  I  hope  you  will  be  inter 
ested  to  know  that  I  have  been  talking  with  that 
young  sculptor  here  whom  I  told  you  about,  and  he 
has  taken  my  idea  of  a  medallion  of  my  father  in 
a  very  intelligent  way.  He  is  a  great  worshipper 
of  Saint-Gaudens,  and  he  is  quite  with  me  in  not 
wanting  to  do  anything  round  or  oval.  He  thinks  of 
an  oblong,  with  the  greatest  length  horizontal,  for  a 
head  of  my  father ;  in  the  upper  left-hand  corner,  an 
inscription  of  three  or  four  lines,  with  dates  and  the 
name,  and  in  the  right  corner,  a  relief  of  the  mills  as 
they  looked  when  my  father  first  took  hold  of  the 
business.  He  did  want  to  have  him  holding  a  relief 
of  them  in  his  right  hand,  as  people  are  shown  hold 
ing  cities  and  temples  in  some  of  the  old  sculptures, 

146 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

but  I  am  afraid  this  would  not  be  understood,  and  I 
do  not  want  to  have  anything  that  could  detract 
from  the  serious  feeling  which  the  tablet  ought  to 
inspire.  I  wish  you  would  think  it  over  and  tell 
me  how  the  notion  strikes  you.  Don't  talk  with 
any  one  else.  I  want  your  opinion  alone.  How 
would  it  do  to  have  the  dedication  on  Decoration 
Day?" 

Hope  wrote  back  a  scoffing  answer,  so  far  as  con 
cerned  the  appeal  for  her  judgment  in  such  a  matter, 
but  she  freely  gave  it  against  the  archaic  treatment. 
She  said  it  would  look  funny.  As  to  the  best  time 
for  the  ceremony  of  dedicating  the  tablet,  she  re 
fused  to  say  anything  whatever.  But  she  did  say 
that  it  seemed  to  her  Decoration  Day  belonged  to 
the  few  old  soldiers  who  were  left  and  their  families, 
and  it  ought  to  be  left  to  them.  It  appeared  that 
this  notion  struck  Langbrith  as  of  the  most  imme 
diate  importance.  He  did  not  wait  to  write  an  an 
swer;  he  telegraphed:  " Thanks  about  Decoration 
Day.  Perfectly  right.  Would  be  ridiculous." 

The  telegram  was  brought  to  Hope  while  she  sat 
trying  to  talk  her  father  out  of  a  plan  he  had  for 
taking  Dr.  Anther's  prescription  only  half  as  often 
as  directed.  His  reason  was  that  he  had  proved 
its  efficacy  so  thoroughly  that  there  was  no  hurry 
about  his  cure.  He  was  satisfied  now  that  he  could 
drop  the  opium  habit  whenever  he  liked;  but,  at 
present,  just  while  he  was  working  at  a  new  inven 
tion  in  his  mind,  he  needed  the  tonic  and  strength 
ening  effect  of  the  laudanum.  Hope  argued  the 
question  with  him  half  jocosely,  as  she  treated  all 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  phases  of  their  common  tragedy,  and  prevailed 
with  him  to  continue  the  doctor's  treatment  to  the 
end  of  the  week.  "  If  you  stop  it  now,"  she  urged, 
"  you'll  have  that  green  dwarf  back  the  first  time 
you  drop  asleep,  and  I  can't  stand  him.  He's  made 
more  trouble  for  this  family — !" 

The  grandmother,  a  fierce  little  spectre  of  a  wom 
an,  with  burning  blue  eyes  and  a  whorl  of  white 
hair  crowning  her  wrinkled  face,  could  not  make  the 
father  and  the  daughter  out.  She  kept  the  house 
keeping  fast  in  the  strong,  shrivelled  hands  into  which 
Hope's  dying  mother's  hands  had  let  it  fall,  but  she 
did  not  meddle  with  the  girl  and  her  father  except 
in  the  way  of  censure  and  prophecy  of  doom.  "  If 
I  had  my  say,  I  should  fill  that  laudanum  bottle  up 
with  good  strong,  black  coffee,  and  not  let  him  have 
anything  but  the  coffee  and  the  medicine." 

"Then  you'd  have  him  tearing  the  roof  off. 
Father  would  know  the  difference  between  coffee 
and  laudanum  the  first  sip,"  Hope  said. 

"And  is  it  a  daughter's  place  to  give  her  father 
poison?" 

"It  seems  to  be  this  daughter's  place,  grandma. 
Besides,  it  isn't  poison  for  him,  and  it's  Dr.  Anther's 
orders." 

"Oh,  a  great  doctor!  I  tell  you,  child,"  and  the 
old  woman  flared  her  fierce  visage  close  in  the  girl's 
face,  "it  won't  be  the  doctor  that  will  have  to  an 
swer  for  this." 

"Well,  I  hope  nobody  will.  There  must  be  a 
great  deal  of  harm  in  the  world  that  nobody  in  par 
ticular  has  to  answer  for." 

148 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  the  old  woman  de 
manded,  "that  all  the  sin  doesn't  come  from  sin 
ners?" 

"Now,  grandmother,  you  know  I  don't  under 
stand  about  those  things,  and  I  never  did,  even 
when  I  was  little  and  expected  to.  You'd  better 
ask  the  people  at  evening  meeting  some  time.  I 
can't  tell  you.  All  that  I  know  is  that  I'm  going 
to  follow  the  doctor's  directions  in  spite  of  father 
and  you,  both,  and  I'm  not  going  to  make  it  all 
medicine  or  all  laudanum  to  please  either  of  you. 
What  is  it,  father?" 

Hawberk  had  gone  down  to  the  side  gate  at  the 
first  menace  of  dispute,  and  left  Hope  and  her  grand 
mother  to  contend  over  him,  while  he  remained  be 
yond  the  hearing  of  the  censure  which  the  old  wom 
an  could  always  make  him  feel  that  he  merited, 
though  he  had  his  theories  that  he  was  the  helpless 
prey  of  his  evils.  Hanging  over  the  gate  in  his 
nerveless  fashion,  he  was  approached  by  the  boy 
from  the  telegraph  office,  who  preferred  climbing 
the  hill  on  a  bicycle  to  bringing  a  message  less  la 
boriously  on  foot.  At  sight  of  him  the  old  woman 
quenched  her  flaring  presence  in  the  dark  of  in-doors. 
She  was  afraid  the  boy  had  heard  her  lifted  voice, 
and  Hope  sauntered  across  the  grass  while  the  boy 
was  taking  the  despatch  out  of  the  inside  of  his  cap. 

Hawberk  looked  at  the  address,  and  then  handed 
it  up  over  his  shoulder  to  her.  "Why,  who  in  the 
world,"  she  wondered,  "has  been  sending  me  a  tele 
gram?  Dear,  I  wish  they  wouldn't,  whoever  it  is," 
she  said  in  a  laughing  panic.  And  then,  having 

149 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

read  it  and  frowned  darkly  at  it  and  puzzled  over 
it  in  a  second  reading,  she  started  back  to  the  house 
with  the  laugh,  but  none  of  the  panic,  and  the  proc 
lamation,  "Well,  certainly,  he  is  the  greatest — " 

"Any  answer?"  the  boy  demanded,  as  sternly  as 
a  boy  could  in  supporting  himself  on  his  stationary 
wheel  by  holding  to  a  picket  of  the  gate. 

"No,  of  course  not,"  Hope  called  back,  and  she 
added,  in  a  lower  voice,  "Goose!"  which,  if  it  was 
meant  for  the  boy,  did  not  reach  him  in  the  swift 
scorch  on  which  he  had  instantly  started  down  the 
hill,  in  compensation  for  his  difficult  climb. 

Her  grandmother,  lurking  in  the  shadow  of  the 
cramped  entry,  tried  to  stop  the  girl  in  her  flight  up 
the  sharply  cornering  stairs  to  her  room  in  the  half- 
story.  "What  is  it,  Hope?" 

The  girl  called  down  from  above,  "Just  some 
nonsense  from  James  Langbrith,"  and,  with  the 
telegram  flattened  and  reperused  on  her  table  be 
fore  her,  she  began  to  write. 

"I  have  just  received  your  despatch.  At  first  I 
thought  it  must  be  somebody  dying,  or  telling  me 
that  I  had  been  left  a  fortune ;  but  I  decided  against 
that  before  I  opened  it.  Of  course,  I  am  proud  to 
think  my  opinion  is  so  important  that  it  has  to  be 
acknowledged  by  telegraph.  But  I  guess  you  had 
better  wait  and  write  the  next  time.  I  was  not  very 
likely  to  run  off  and  see  the  Selectmen  and  have  a 
town -meeting  called  before  I  could  hear  from  you 
by  mail.  I  hope  you  will  not  be  disappointed  if  I 
don't  telegraph  back.  But  if  everything  you  have 
anything  to  do  with  is  so  important,  perhaps  you 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

will  be.  I  don't  know  what  that  new  telegraph-girl 
at  the  depot  will  think.  She  must  be  trying  to  puz 
zle  it  out  by  a  cipher  code  and  racking  her  brains 
over  it.  Why  did  you  send  it?  Did  you  think 
what  you  had  suggested  was  so  very  silly  that  you 
could  not  bear  to  let  it  go  another  night  before 
taking  it  back?" 

After  venting  the  agitation  of  her  fluttered  nerves 
in  these  railleries,  she  went  on  to  make  Langbrith 
what  amends  for  them  she  could  by  writing  a  longer 
and  friendlier  letter  than  usual ;  and,  when  she  had 
finished  it,  she  told  her  grandmother  she  was  going 
to  the  post-office,  and  perhaps  she  would  stop  to 
see  Susie  Johns  on  the  way,  but  she  would  be  back 
again  soon.  She  tilted  down  the  long  hill-side  street, 
and  her  face  was  as  gay  with  the  fun  reverberating 
in  her  mind  from  her  letter  as  if  she  had  left  nothing 
but  a  sunny  serenity  in  the  house  behind  her,  where 
her  father  was  fighting  away  from  the  horrors  of  his 
dream,  and  her  grandmother  was  gloomily  exulting 
in  the  doom  that  must  follow  his  ill-doing,  as  if  for 
the  reward  of  her  well-doing.  While  Hope  was  with 
them,  she  felt  the  oppression  of  their  unhappiness; 
but  out  of  their  presence,  it  existed  for  her  only  as 
something  inevitable,  which  she  must  not  take  any 
more  seriously  than  James  Langbrith's  self-impor 
tance.  The  unhappiness  made  her  laugh  sometimes, 
as  Langbrith's  pomposity  did,  or  the  thought  of  his 
clumsy  truth  and  the  humble  pride  with  which  he 
owned  himself  wrong  in  his  absurdities. 

"What  long  steps  you  take!"  a  voice  called  after 
her  at  a  corner  she  was  passing,  and  she  whirled  her 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

face  over  her  shoulder  to  see  Mrs.  Enderby  hurrying 
to  join  her.  "Hope,"  the  rector's  wife  said,  breath 
lessly,  "  you're  the  brightest  and  blithest  thing  in 
this  town." 

"Am  I,  Mrs.  Enderby?"  the  girl  laughed,  slowing 
her  pace  for  the  friendly  lady. 

"Don't  you  know  it?  Or  perhaps  you  don't, 
and  that's  the  reason  why  you  can  keep  it  up.  Don't 
try  to  realize  it,  child.  How  are  you  all  at  home 
this  lovely  morning?" 

"  Oh,  we're  always  well,  Mrs.  Enderby.   That  is—" 

She  stopped,  and  Mrs.  Enderby  went  on  for  her. 
"I'm  not  going  to  make  you  conscious,  and  you 
mustn't  let  me,  but  just  to  see  that  face  of  yours  is 
inspiration.  Were  you  always  so?" 

"  Why,  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  '  so '  you  mean. 
I  suppose  I'm  pretty  well  all  the  time,  and  that 
makes  a  difference." 

"And  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  that  you're  pretty 
without  the  well,  for  that  never  makes  any  part  of 
the  difference.  But,  Hope,  you  are  pretty,  whether 
you  know  it  or  not." 

"  Well,"  the  girl  drolled,  "  I  don't  know  as  I  could 
do  anything  about  it  if  I  did." 

"No,  and  that's  what  makes  me  feel  so  safe  in 
praising  you.  I  know  it  won't  spoil  you.  When 
you  came  rushing  along  past  the  corner,  you  made 
me  think  of  some  tall  flower  sloping  in  the  wind.  I 
wish  you  would  tell  me  just  what  flower  you  made 
me  think  of!  If  there  was  some  kind  of  black  iris! 
Well,  I  must  try  to  find  out." 

They  laughed  together,  and  Hope  said,  "If  I 
152 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

knew,  I  might  think  you  wanted  to  flatter  me,  Mrs. 
Enderby." 

"  No,  I'm  not  flattering  you.  If  I  told  you  what 
I  thought  of  you  that  night  at  Mrs.  Langbrith's,  you 
might  suppose  I  was.  I  couldn't  keep  my  eyes  off 
you.  And  other  people  couldn't.  I  dare  say  you 
didn't  know  it?" 

"If  I  did,  I  must  have  forgotten  it  by  this  time; 
it  was  such  a  long  while  ago." 

"  Hope,  you  are  not  only  the  gayest  and  prettiest 
girl  here,  but  you  are  the  wittiest." 

"  Well,  now,  I  know  you're  not  flattering  me.  It's 
no  more  than  my  just  dues  to  have  you  say  that." 

"  Oh,  I'm  only  repeating  what  I  hear  other  people 
say.  I  wonder,"  Mrs.  Enderby  went  on,  as  if  to 
the  very  next  thing,  "whether  Mr.  Langbrith  spoke 
to  you  about  a  great  scheme  that  he  has  in  mind  ?" 

Mrs.  Enderby  was  launched,  and  nothing  in  her 
own  nature  or  the  situation  could  keep  her  from 
sailing  to  her  destination.  As  a  Boston  woman 
valiantly  and  loyally  following  her  husband,  not 
only  from  the  Unitarian  cult  in  which  they  were 
both  born  into  the  church  on  whose  ritualistic 
heights  the  rector  had  planted  his  banner,  but  also 
from  the  many  lively  interests  of  her  native  city 
into  the  social  desolation  of  Saxmills,  she  realized 
from  time  to  time  that  she  owed  herself  all  the 
amends  within  her  reach,  and  she  was  not  one  to 
be  guilty  of  the  injustice  of  withholding  them.  She 
had  been  charmed  with  Hope  from  the  first,  and 
when  she  perceived,  as  she  did  very  early  in  the 
history  of  her  establishment  in  Saxmills,  what  this 

'53 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

poor,  pretty,  happy,  tragical  creature  obviously  was 
to  the  young  owner  of  the  local  industry  and  pros 
perity,  the  mother-heart  of  her  childlessness  bowed 
itself  upon  them  both,  and  held  her  in  the  hope  of 
at  least  so  revealing  them  to  each  other  that  they 
need  not  err  as  to  their  mutual  meaning.  The  affair 
satisfied  the  most  recondite  demands  of  her  soul  by 
its  romantic  properties;  and  that  disparity  in  the 
worldly  fortunes  of  the  pair  did  not  affect  her  with  a 
sense  of  unfitness,  as  it  might  have  done  if  they 
had  been  Bostonians.  They  were  both  natives  of  a 
place  that,  without  any  sort  of  social  traditions, 
had  grown  from  a  small  village  under  the  magic  of 
the  elder  Langbrith's  enterprise  into  the  busy  little 
town  she  knew ;  and  the  picturesque  legend  of  Lang 
brith's  forbearance  with  the  infirmity  of  Hope's 
father  until  he  could  forbear  no  longer,  touched  the 
fancy  of  Mrs.  Enderby  as  the  material  of  a  peculiar 
tie  between  the  young  people.  Something  better 
than  her  fancy  was  pleased  with  the  notion  of  the 
father's  reconciliation  in  their  children. 

"  About  what  scheme?"  Hope  asked,  with  the  in 
evitable  hypocrisy. 

"He  was  speaking  of  it  to  the  gentlemen  after 
the  ladies  left  the  table  that  night,  and  Dr.  Enderby 
mentioned  it  to  me.  Why!  I  don't  know  but  it's 
a  tremendous  secret,  and  I  oughtn't  to  talk  of  it!" 

Hope  wished  to  talk  of  it,  and  now  she  had  to 
unmask.  "Was  it  the  tablet  he  wants  to  put  into 
the  library  to  his  father?" 

"You  do  know  about  it,  then!"  Mrs.  Enderby  re 
joiced.  "  What  do  you  think  about  it  ?" 

154 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Why,  nobody  could  have  any  objections,  could 
they  ?  If  his  father  gave  the  library  building  to  the 
town?" 

"  No,  certainly.  I  fancy  they'll  be  only  too  glad 
to  have  him  do  it.  At  any  rate,  he's  going  on  with 
it.  He's  got  a  sculptor  to  design  it,  and  as  soon  as 
it  is  finished  he  is  going  to  have  it  dedicated  here. 
He  hasn't  fixed  on  just  the  time.  Dr.  Enderby  had 
a  letter  from  him  this  morning,  saying  he  had  thought 
of  Decoration  Day,  but  that  he  had  consulted  with 
some  one  in  whose  taste  he  had  special  confidence, 
and  this  mystical  unknown  had  suggested  to  him 
that  it  would  be  taking  the  day  from  those  whom 
it  belonged  to  for  something  else ;  and  he  wanted  Dr. 
Enderby  to  suggest  another  date  not  much  later. 
Dr.  Enderby  proposed  his  father's  birthday,  and 
very  likely  he  will  decide  on  that  unless  his  unknown 
adviser  counsels  differently.  Do  you  suppose  it  is 
that  Mr.  Falk  who  was  here  with  him?" 

"I  think  he  would  be  likely  to  ask  Mr.  Falk," 
Hope  demurely  conceded,  with  eyes  that  could  not 
help  falling  under  Mrs.  Enderby 's. 

"Well,  whoever  it  is,  Dr.  Enderby  admires  his 
sense  and  his  feeling."  And,  at  this,  the  question 
in  Hope's  mind  whether  she  should  tell  Susie  Johns 
about  the  affair  went  out  of  it.  She  could  not  do 
so  now  without  seeming  to  brag.  She  was  not  going 
to  brag,  but  she  felt  proud  of  having  the  sense  and 
the  feeling  that  Dr,  Enderby  had  praised.  "Dr. 
Enderby  liked  Mr.  Langbrith's  frankness,  too,  in 
confessing  his  own  want  of  though tfulness." 

"Yes,  that  was  nice,"  Hope  said,  with  some  tacit 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

misgiving  for  the  sarcastic  tenor  of  the  letter  in  her 
pocket.  She  said  to  herself  that  it  was  the  only 
way  to  get  along  with  James  Langbrith.  If  you. 
did  not  laugh  at  him  a  little,  he  would  be  unbear 
able.  But  she  thought  that,  if  she  found  a  letter 
from  him  in  the  post-office,  she  might  not  mail  hers, 
at  least  till  she  read  his. 

"Dr.  Enderby,"  the  rector's  wife  pursued, 
"thinks  very  highly  of  Mr.  Langbrith.  Of  course, 
every  one  has  their  faults,  but  he  thinks  Mr.  Lang 
brith  really  tries  to  overcome  his  when  he  sees  them, 
and  he  bears  being  shown  his  weaknesses  very  well. 
Dr.  Enderby  says  that  is  the  most  uncommon  kind 
of  virtue.  I  didn't  quite  like  Mr.  Falk's  sarcastic 
tone  with  him,  but  I  suppose  Mr.  Langbrith  knows 
how  to  take  care  of  himself.  Sometimes  young  men 
seem  to  enjoy  that.  It's  like  their  'scrapping,'  as 
they  call  it.  But  Dr.  Enderby  says  that  Mr.  Lang 
brith  was  just  as  nice  with  the  cold  way  Dr.  Anther 
took  his  plan  for  the  tablet." 

"Didn't  Dr.  Anther  like  it?"  Hope  asked. 

"Apparently  not.  He  didn't  say  why,  and  that 
made  it  all  the  more  awkward  for  Mr.  Langbrith. 
Dr.  Anther  didn't  seem  to  take  any  interest  in  the 
project,  and  yet  Mr.  Langbrith's  father  was  his  old 
friend." 

Hope  mused  darkly  for  a  moment,  then  she 
brightened  to  a  laugh.  "Well,  it  doesn't  seem  to 
have  discouraged  Mr.  Langbrith  very  much." 

"No,  it  hasn't,"  Mrs.  Enderby  recognized  with  a 
laugh  of  her  own,  "  and  I'm  glad  of  it.  I  think  it's 
a  very  good  plan,  and  it  will  be  an  attractive  addi- 

156 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

tion  to  the  front  of  the  library — so  very  plain.  I 
believe  in  commemorating  such  things.  It  helps 
to  make  a  place  historical,  and  we  have  so  little 
histoiy.  But  Mr.  Langbrith  is  so  very  sensitive, 
and  I  don't  like  to  have  him  hurt.  I  know  he  suf 
fers  very  much  when  he  has  found  himself  in  the 
wrong." 

"Nobody  enjoys  that,"  Hope  suggested. 

"No,  of  course  not;  but  his  ideal  is  so  very  high. 
He  does  always  want  to  do  what  is  fine  and  noble. 
I  can  see  that.  I  think  he  is  rare.  I  almost  trem 
bled  when  you  got  into  that  little  dispute  with  him 
that  night:  he's  not  as  quick  as  you,  Hope."  Mrs. 
Enderby  questioned  with  eager  eyes  the  young  face 
which  masked  itself  against  her  pursuit  in  a  smile. 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  very  serious." 

"  Not  for  you,  of  course,  but  it  was  for  him.  He 
was  making  a  brave  show,  but  I  could  see  how  very 
—very —  He  isn't  as  satirical  as  you  are.  You 
must  be  careful  of  that  keen  little  tongue  of  yours. 
Oh,  dear,  what  am  I  saying?  You  do  forgive  me? 
But  girls  don't  know  how  the  things  they  say  rankle 
in  young  men's  minds,  and  how  eager  young  men 
are  to  have  the  approval  of  girls  they  respect. 
There!  There  comes  Dr.  Anther  now.  I  wish  I 
had  the  courage  to  ask  him  why  he  doesn't  approve 
of  the  tablet.  Good-bye,  dear;  I'm  going  into  this 
store.  Are  you  going  to  the  post-office  ?  I  believe 
I'll  go  with  you — or  no!  If  I  waited  to  meet  Dr. 
Anther,  I  should  be  sure  to  ask  him,  and  I've  no 
right  to.  Well!" 

Mrs.  Enderby  slipped  into  the  door- way  where  she 
157 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  scarcely  halted  the  girl,  and  Hope  tilted  on 
towards  the  post-office  with  not  so  light  nor  so  swift 
a  gait  as  before.  It  was  silly,  of  course,  to  mind 
what  Mrs.  Enderby  said;  but  she  had  now  fully 
agreed  with  herself  that  she  would  not  mail  her 
sarcastic  note  to  Langbrith  till  she  had  seen  whether 
there  was  a  letter.  She  flushed  when  the  girl  clerk 
gave  her  a  letter  from  him,  and  she  turned  the  cor 
ner  at  the  post-office  to  be  able  to  read  it  unmolested 
in  the  by-street  leading  to  Susie  Johns'.  It  was  so 
full  of  what  seemed  to  her  a  swelling  self-satisfaction 
that  she  did  not  look  up  the  date  to  see  whether  it 
had  been  written  before  her  last  reached  him,  but 
pushed  it  into  her  pocket,  and,  hurrying  round  the 
square,  without  stopping  to  see  Susie  Johns,  she 
reached  the  post-office  again,  and  shot  the  note 
she  had  with  her  into  the  slot  in  the  door,  and  walk 
ed  vigorously  homeward,  with  the  full  approval  of 
her  judgment  and  a  just  indignation  for  her  mo 
mentary  betrayal  into  a  mistaken  mercy  for  an 
offender  so  hardened  as  James  Langbrith.  She  had 
to  pass  his  mother's  house  on  the  way,  and  she  saw 
Mrs.  Langbrith  out  in  the  sun  before  it,  stooping  to 
look  at  the  perennials  in  their  bed  beside  the  door. 
But  Mrs.  Langbrith  did  not  see  her,  and  Hope  got 
home  in  a  defiance  of  Mrs.  Enderby  that  kept  itself 
from  being  articulate  with  difficulty. 


XVIII 

MRS.  LANGBRITH  came  out  every  fine  day  to  look 
over  her  flowers  at  first,  and  then  to  work  over  them. 
She  made  the  man  clean  up  round  the  tall  syringas 
planted  at  intervals  along  the  brick  walk  to  the 
gate,  and  about  the  lilacs  that  overhung  the  fence. 
She  followed  him  as  he  combed  down  the  limp  last 
year's  grass  and  raked  the  dead  leaves  and  stems 
into  heaps  at  the  points  she  chose  and  then  set  fire 
to  them.  At  tea,  she  liked  to  have  the  dining-room 
windows  a  little  open,  that  the  homely  smell  of  their 
burning  heaps  might  come  in  with  the  fresh  evening 
air  and  possess  her  with  the  dreams  of  that  girlhood 
which  now  no  longer  seemed  so  far  past.  She 
thought  Dr.  Anther  might  stop  some  evening  in 
going  by ;  but  if  she  caught  sight  of  him  in  the  dis 
tance,  she  went  in-doors.  She  realized  that  their 
embrace  at  their  last  meeting  was  more  like  a  final 
parting  than  a  pledge  of  union,  unless  she  were  ready 
to  do  what  she  wished  but  was  afraid  to  do.  Yet 
this  thought  of  it  had  the  greater  sweetness  for  that 
reason;  and  the  love  that  had  come  into  her  life  so 
late  was  the  more  precious  because  it  seemed  to 
have  come  too  late. 

Towards  her  son,  grown  a  man,  she  felt  its  inde 
corum  in  a  kind  which  she  could  not  quite  formu- 

159 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

late,  but  which  was  distinct  enough.  If  her  love 
had  come  when  she  was  younger,  and  he  still  a  child, 
it  would  have  been  different;  and  yet  she  could  not 
blame  her  friend  for  not  knowing  himself  sooner. 
That  blame  would  have  been  as  indecorous  towards 
Anther  as  now  the  thought  of  him  was  towards  her 
son.  Before  her  marriage  her  fancy  had  scarcely 
been  stirred.  She  had  gone  the  round  of  the  simple 
children's  amusements  in  her  country  neighborhood 
—the  parties  and  picnics  and  school  festivals;  but 
no  little  boy  had  been  her  beau.  She  had  not  even 
been  teased  by  her  mates  about  any  one.  She  was 
younger  in  experience  than  any  girl  she  knew  in 
the  mill  when  Langbrith  cast  his  eye  her  way,  and 
suddenly,  somehow,  through  her  necessity  and  help 
lessness,  made  her  his  wife.  She  certainly  was  not 
aware  of  anything  like  love  for  him,  so  far  as  she 
imagined  love;  but  she  was  flattered  and  dazzled 
and  overcome,  and  she  supposed  that  she  was  mar 
rying  as  other  people  married,  and  for  the  reasons 
that  they  had.  Her  awakening  from  her  illusion 
was  like  the  terror  of  a  child  which  has  not  enough 
knowledge  of  the  world  to  match  its  experiences 
with  those  of  others.  In  a  fashion  not  definite  or 
articulate,  she  accepted  her  lot  as  a  common  lot  in 

'  wif ehood ;  and,  as  she  had  supposed  herself  to  have 
married  from  the  usual  motives,  so  she  now  sup 
posed  that  what  she  underwent  was  not  unusual. 

j  From  her  sufferings,  she  formed  a  notion  of  mar 
riage  grotesquely  false,  which  was  like  a  child's  mis 
conception  of  life,  and  the  spell  of  this  kept  her 
submissive.  She  did  not  talk  of  what  she  under- 

160 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

went ;  no  one  talked  to  her  of  such  things,  and  ap 
parently  it  was  not  the  custom. 

Her  childlikeness  so  prolonged  itself,  not  igno- 
rantly,  but  innocently,  through  her  wifehood  and 
motherhood  and  widowhood,  that,  when  at  last  she 
was  aware  of  liking  the  man  who  later  loved  her, 
and  of  trusting  him  and  longing  for  his  affection, 
it  was  with  a  sense  of  shame  as  from  unprecedented 
guilt.  Before  the  thought  of  her  son  she  was  so 
ashamed  that  she  knew  she  should  never  be  able  to 
tell  him  of  Dr.  Anther,  nor  even  allow  Anther  to 
speak  for  himself.  She  did  not  feel  that  her  tender 
ness  for  her  friend  could  be  wrong  when  she  was 
with  him.  She  was  now  glad  of  that  sole  embrace 
which  they  had  ever  suffered  their  love,  and  proud 
•  of  it ;  but  the  knowledge  of  it  sunk  her  at  her  son's 
feet  when  she  imagined  his  knowing  it.  Her  face 
burned,  and  it  did  not  avail  her  to  remember  the 
examples  of  mothers  that  had  married  again,  and 
had  lived  on  with  their  husbands,  and  their  children 
by  their  dead  husbands,  in  unimpaired  harmony 
and  mutual  respect.  She  was  moved  late  in  her  in 
extinguishable  girlhood  to  her  first  passion,  but  only 
to  find  herself  inexorably  consecrated  to  her  widow 
hood  through  her  reverence  for  her  son's  ideal  of  his 
father. 

At  sight  of  Hope  Hawberk  tilting  lightly  down  the 
sidewalk,  she  was  seized  with  the  same  impulse  to 
flight  as  at  the  approach  of  the  doctor  in  his  vagari 
ous  buggy;  and  she  had  to  conquer  far  more  shy 
ness  when,  one  warm  afternoon,  Hope  caught  her  so 
preoccupied  with  the  hired  man  that  it  was  too  late 

161 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

for  her  to  think  of  eluding  her.  She  shrank  together 
beyond  a  well-budded  lilac,  where  Hope's  gay  voice, 
as  if  it  had  a  bright,  entangling  noose  of  sound, 
reached  her  in  the  chanted  salutation,  "  How  do  you 
do,  Mrs.  Langbrith?"  and  held  her  fast.  She  came 
reluctantly  from  her  shelter,  and  advanced  slowly 
towards  the  gate,  on  the  top  of  which  the  girl  had 
laid  her  arms,  and  her  red  cheek  for  a  moment  in 
the  hollow  of  one  of  them.  "  Isn't  it  awfully  warm  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  is.  Though  I  haven't  noticed  it  so  much, 
working  about.  Won't  you  come  in,  Hope?" 

"  Why,  I  will,  Mrs.  Langbrith,  if  you'll  let  me.  I 
was  just  coming  in,  when  I  saw  you."  She  pushed 
the  gate  open  and  joined  Mrs.  Langbrith,  who  turn 
ed  with  her  and  walked  towards  the  house.  "  How 
fast  your  things  are  coming  on !  It  seems  as  if  they 
were  twice  as  forward  as  ours,  and  there  are  twice 
as  many  of  them.  I  don't  suppose  they  help  each 
other,  do  they?" 

"I  don't  believe  they  do,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  an 
swered  so  literally  that  it  might  have  passed  as  a 
piece  of  the  same  whimsicality.  "  How  is  your 
grandmother  ?' ' 

"  She's  as  energetic  as  ever.  I  don't  see  how  she 
can  be.  This  weather  takes  all  the  good  resolutions 
out  of  me,  Mrs.  Langbrith,  and  I  don't  know  how 
I've  got  together  enough  to  come  and  see  you.  I 
want  to  tell  you  something  that  I  don't  want  to 
tell  you." 

The  girl's  humor  was  catching,  and  the  woman 
caught  it.  "  Well,  what  is  it?"  she  asked,  but  she 
apparently  did  not  expect  Hope  to  answer  till  she 

162 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  got  her  seated  at  an  open  window  of  the  parlor, 
with  a  palm-leaf  fan  in  her  hand. 

"Why,  it's  just  this,  Mrs.  Langbrith.  I've  got 
into  a  scrape  with  James,  and  if  you  can't  tell  me 
how  to  get  out  of  it,  I  don't  know  who  can." 

Mrs.  Langbrith 's  heart  fluttered  with  a  varied 
anticipation,  but  she  united  her  emotions  in  the 
single  inexpressive  phrase,  "  I  don't  believe  it's  any 
thing  serious." 

"Yes,  it  is,  Mrs.  Langbrith.  It's  very  serious, 
and  it  has  gone  so  far  now  that  something  has  got 
to  be  done  about  it,  and  I  can't  have  the  responsi 
bility  left  to  me." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  listened  with  the  wish  for  one 
thing  and  the  will  for  another,  but  her  will  prevailed 
over  her  wish,  and  she  kept  herself  from  saying 
anything  leading.  She  believed  that  there  was  some 
sort  of  love-quarrel  which  Hope  had  come  to  own, 
but  she  was  not  going  to  tempt  her  to  the  confession. 
She  said,  non-committally,  "I  will  try  not  to  hold 
you  responsible." 

Hope  laughed  rather  distractedly.  "  I  guess  you 
will  have  to.  It's  about  that  tablet  he  wants  to 
put  up  in  the  front  of  the  library." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  stiffened  in  her  chair,  and  said, 
"Oh!" 

"Well,  James  has  been  writing  to  me  about  it 
since  he  went  back  to  Cambridge,  and  I  guess  he 
thinks  I  have  been  making  fun  of  him,  when  I  was 
only  making  fun  of  the  notion  that  he  should  take 
something  I  said  so  seriously.  Don't  you  under 
stand?" 

163 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

''James  is  apt  to  take  things  seriously,"  his  moth 
er  said. 

"And  I'm  not,'11  Hope  retorted,  with  a  touch  of 
resentment,  as  if  she  felt  a  touch  of  reproach  in  Mrs. 
Langbrith's  tone,  though  the  words  themselves  were 
so  neutral.  "  And  that's  just  the  difference,  and  al 
ways  will  be."  The  last  clause  of  the  sentence  was 
a  generality,  which  the  girl  seemed  to  address  to 
herself  rather  than  Mrs.  Langbrith.  "  Now,  I'll  tell 
you  what  it  is.  He  asked  me  what  I  thought  about 
his  having  the  dedication  on  Decoration  Day,  and  I 
told  him  I  didn't  think  it  was  quite  fair  to  take 
that  day  from  the  old  soldiers  and  their  families; 
and  he  saw  it  in  the  same  light,  and  he  telegraphed 
to  say  that  I  was  right  and  he  wouldn't.  And  I 
wrote  back  making  fun  of  his  telegraphing,  as  if  it 
couldn't  wait  for  a  letter." 

"  I  don't  see  any  harm  in  that.  James  is  very 
intense  in  his  feelings,  but  he  would  see  that  you 
didn't  mean  anything  unfriendly — anything— 

"No,  of  course  not.  But  now  comes  what  I  am 
really  ashamed  of.  My  making  fun  seems  to  have 
made  him  very  mad,  so  mad  that  he  says  he  is  going 
to  give  up  the  whole  idea,  and  won't  have  anything 
done  about  it.  He  says  I  have  made  it  seem  ridic 
ulous  to  him." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  cast  down  her  eyes.  "James  is 
very  sensitive  in  regard  to — Mr.  Langbrith." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,  and  that's  what  makes  me  sorry. 
Of  course,  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  his  feelings  for  his 
father.  And  now,  Mrs.  Langbrith,  and  now — I've  got 
something  else  to  tell  you .  You  know  how  girls  are  ?' ' 

164 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

" Thoughtless,  you  mean?" 

"No  —  bad!  Downright  wicked!  I  told  Susie 
Johns  about  James's  telegraphing.  I  don't  see  why 
I  should  do  such  a  thing.  But  we  were  laughing 
about  a  lot  of  things,  and  that  came  out.  It  was  as 
mean  as  it  could  be.  And  now  I  would  do  anything 
in  the  world  to  make  it  right,  but  I  don't  suppose  I 
ever  can.  I  don't  care  a  bit  about  his  being  mad  at 
me  for  it ;  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  be ;  but  what  I 
hate  is  people  laughing  at  him.  I've  been  to  tell 
Susie  not  to  tell,  since  I  got  his  last  letter,  but  I 
know  she  will.  He  mustn't  give  up  the  idea,  be 
cause  they  will  say  that  I  laughed  at  it,  and  that 
was  the  reason,  and  I  am  not  going  to  have  them. 
Don't  you  see?  I  expect  you  to  blame  me,  Mrs. 
Langbrith,  and  never  speak  to  me  again ;  but  I  shall 
not  care  for  that  if  you  can  think  of  some  way  to 
stop  him — to  make  him  not  give  it  up.  Why,  he 
must  go  on  with  it,  now.  Everybody  knows  that  he 
was  going  to  do  it,  and  he  must.  Was  there  ever 
such  a  scrape?" 

Mrs.  Langbrith  sat  silent,  but  this  was  quite  what 
Hope  seemed  to  expect,  and  the  face  that  she  turned 
upon  the  girl  was  by  no  means  severe,  but  rather 
somewhat  distressed  and  puzzled. 

Hope  went  on.  "I  don't  believe  it  will  do  any 
good  for  me  to  write  to  him  and  tell  him  he  must." 
Mrs.  Langbrith  made  no  comment  on  this  sugges 
tion,  and  Hope  owned,  "  Well,  I  have  written  to  him, 
and  he's  written  back,  and  said  that  he  knows  my 
real  feeling  now,  and  he  cannot  go  on.  I  don't  see 
why  he  minds  my  feeling,  anyway,  and  that's  the 

165 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

reason  why  I've  come  to  you.  I  don't  know  what 
made  me  come  to  you  about  it,  but  I  wanted  to  ask 
you  if  you  thought  it  would  do  for  me  to  ask  Dr. 
Anther  to  write  to  James?" 

"Dr.  Anther?" 

"Yes,  and  tell  him  not  to  mind  a  person  who  is 
not  worth  minding,  but  to  go  on  and  put  up  the 
tablet.  Tell  him  that  everybody  approves  of  it, 
and  expects  it." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  emerged  from  her  absence,  but 
the  stare  which  she  bent  upon  the  girl  was  as  silent 
as  her  far-off  look. 

"Will  it  do  for  me  to  ask  the  doctor?  I  don't 
want  to  do  it,  because —  But  I  will,  rather  than 
let  it  go  as  it  is.  I  will  do  anything.  What  do  you 
think,  Mrs.  Langbrith?" 

Mrs.  Langbrith  shook  her  head,  and  said,  with 
something  that  she  kept  from  being  a  shudder,  "  Oh 
no,  it  won't  do  to  speak  to  Dr.  Anther." 

"  For  me  ?     Or  for  any  one  ?" 

"For  you.     I — I  will  speak  to  him." 

"You?  Oh,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Langbrith!  I 
thought — I  hoped — I  didn't  dare  to  hope—  The 
pent  emotions,  kept  in  so  bravely,  broke  in  tears, 
and  Hope  caught  her  handkerchief  from  her  belt 
and  sobbed  into  it.  "Oh,  dear,  I  don't  see  why 
you  do  it!  I  don't  see  how  you  can  bear  to  look  at 
me,  or  speak  to  me,  much  less  do  anything  I  ask 
you  to,  after  the  mischief  I've  made.  But  I  do,  do 
thank  you— 

She  wavered  towards  the  other,  with  what  design 
she  did  not  know;  but,  whatever  it  was,  Mrs.  Lang- 

166 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

brith  put  her  arms  round  her,  and  pulled  her  head 
down  on  her  shoulder,  and  the  girl  had  her  cry  out 
there.  "Oh,  I'm  so  ashamed,  I'm  so  ashamed!'' 
she  kept  saying.  "  I  don't  know  why  you  let  me, 
Mrs.  Langbrith!" 

Mrs.  Langbrith  did  not  say,  and  perhaps  could 
not ;  but  when  Hope's  passion  of  weeping  was  spent 
and  she  drew  away  to  wipe  her  eyes,  and  compose 
her  face,  the  woman  said,  irrelevantly,  "How  is 
your  father,  Hope?" 

"Oh,  much  better.  I  believe  the  doctor  thinks 
he  can  cure  him." 

"  That's  good,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  said  as  irrelevantly 
as  before,  and  now  she  let  the  girl,  with  a  fling  of 
her  arms  round  her  neck,  run  out  of  the  house  un 
hindered. 

Half-way  to  the  gate  she  met  Mrs.  Enderby  com 
ing  up  to  make  a  call  on  Mrs.  Langbrith;  and,  from 
behind  the  veil  she  had  caught  down  over  her  face, 
she  was  able  to  chant  a  gay  little  "Good-afternoon, 
Mrs.  Enderby!"  without  exciting  any  question  in 
the  lady,  except  as  to  how  a  girl  whose  life  was  so 
tragically  conditioned  could  keep  that  blithe  note 
in  her  voice. 


XIX 

ALMOST  the  first  thing  Mrs.  Enderby  said  was, 
"That  poor,  pretty  creature,  how  wonderfully  she 
keeps  up!"  for  this  was  what  was  still  first  in  her 
mind  when  she  took  the  place  at  the  window  which 
Hope  had  just  left,  and  looked  to  see  if  she  could  still 
see  her. 

Mrs.  Langbrith  said,  "Won't  you  have  a  fan?" 
and  Mrs.  Enderby  thanked  her  and  took  from  her 
the  fan  which  Hope  had  dropped  on  the  table.  "  It 
is  unseasonably  warm." 

"  We  often  have  a  hot  day  like  this  towards  the 
beginning  of  May." 

"Oh  yes,  that  is  true.  But  the  leaves  not  being 
out  makes  it  so  melting  in  the  sun.  Is  there  the 
least  hope  for  the  child's  father?" 

"  Dr.  Anther  has  always  believed  his  habit  could 
be  cured." 

"Oh  yes,  Dr.  Anther:  how  we  all  depend  upon 
him!  Saxmills  would  be  another  place  without 
him.  We  turn  to  him  in  so  many  things.  I  was 
just  thinking  about  him — just  speaking  about  him 
with  Dr.  Enderby.  But,  Mrs.  Langbrith,  what  is 
this  I  hear  about  your  son's  giving  up  the  notion  of 
the  tablet  to  his  father?  I  hope  it  isn't  true — just 
town  gossip." 

168 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  James  hasn't  said  anything  to  me  about  giving 
it  up,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  answered,  and  she  quelled 
the  outward  signs  of  her  wonder  whether  Hope  had 
come  to  her  with  a  half -confession,  and  had  been 
twice  as  silly  and  light-tongued  as  she  had  owned. 
"  He  has  given  up  having  the  dedication  on  Decora 
tion  Day." 

"  Oh,  well,  perhaps  that's  it,  and  it  has  got  twisted 
into  the  other  thing.  May  I  say  that  you  have 
heard  nothing  from  him  in  regard  to  it?" 

Mrs.  Langbrith  could  truthfully  assent  to  this, 
but  she  assented  with  so  much  coldness  that  Mrs. 
Enderby  was  struck  by  it,  and  a  little  hurt.  In  her 
kind  heart,  which  was  equal  to  most  emergencies 
where  excuses  were  needed  for  offences,  she  account 
ed  for  the  coldness  as  the  expression  of  rustic  shy 
ness.  She  had  known  village  modesty  to  take  the 
form  of  village  pride,  and,  later,  unmask  itself  in 
touching  gratitude. 

"  We  all,"  she  went  on,  after  thanking  Mrs.  Lang 
brith  for  her  assent,  "think  it  such  an  admirable 
idea,  and  Dr.  Enderby  particularly  favors  it.  He 
feels  it  so  important  to  recognize  character,  espe 
cially  when  it  has  influenced  a  whole  community 
as  Mr.  Langbrith's  has  influenced  Saxmills,  and 
stamped  his  traits  on  the  place,  as  Dr.  Enderby 
says,  that  I  believe  he  would  have  been  glad  to 
have  a  tablet  to  Mr.  Langbrith's  memory  in  the 
church." 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Enderby  certainly  expected 
some  sort  of  response;  but  Mrs.  Langbrith  preserved 
a  silence  of  unbroken  iciness.  Perhaps  she  did  not 

169 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

like  the  notion  of  a  tablet  in  the  church.  Mrs. 
Enderby  went  on: 

"  But,  of  course,  he  feels  that  there  is  a  peculiar 
fitness  in  its  being  in  the  library  building.  We  all 
do,  and  I  am  sure  every  one  will  be  glad  to  hear  that 
there  is  nothing  in  that  report,  or  nothing  but  a 
perversion  of  the  Decoration  Day  part  of  it." 

Mrs.  Langbrith  made  no  sign  of  gratification  in 
Mrs.  Enderby 's  conclusion,  and  Mrs.  Enderby  had 
to  go  away  in  an  uncomfortable  misgiving  for  the 
effect  of  the  interest  she  had  shown  in  the  matter. 
She  had  no  misgiving  for  the  interest  itself.  That 
was  simply  a  duty  towards  one  of  her  husband's 
parishioners,  such  as  she  had  promised  herself  to  ful 
fil  towards  all  after  she  had  so  reluctantly  consent 
ed  to  his  taking  the  parish  of  St.  Cuthbert's  at  Sax- 
mills.  She  felt  that  she  was  not  only  following  him 
into  the  wilderness — anywhere  over  twenty  miles 
from  Boston  was  the  wilderness  for  a  Bostonian  of 
her  elect  origin — but  she  had  fears  of  the  peculiar 
difficulties  which  a  priest  of  Dr.  Enderby's  socialistic 
— she  called  them  "sociological" — tendencies  would 
have  in  a  cure  of  proletariat  souls,  housed  in  a  tem 
ple  built  with  money  from  their  exploitation.  Lang 
brith  had  given  St.  Cuthbert's  small  but  sufficient 
church  to  the  parish,  as  well  as  the  library  to  the 
town;  and  Mrs.  Enderby's >  question  was  whether 
her  husband  could  keep  that  perfect  conscience  be 
tween  a  due  sense  of  gratitude  towards  the  giver's 
memory  and  his  duty  towards  the  employes  of  his 
son's  milling  property  in  the  event  of  those  differ 
ences  which  might  any  time  arise  between  capital 

170 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

and  labor.  She  had  been  wakened  by  this  question 
one  memorable  night,  and  had  not  been  able  to  wait 
till  morning  before  submitting  it  to  Dr.  Enderby,  in 
a  conscience  inherited  from  Calvinistic  forefathers 
through  a  Unitarian  father  who  had  preserved 
nothing  from  his  ancestral  faith  but  the  con 
science  transmitted  to  his  family  of  daughters.  Dr. 
Enderby 's  own  conscience  was  of  the  same  lineage, 
and  it  cost  them  both  a  night's  sleep  to  decide  the 
point.  In  fact,  it  was  not  until  late  into  the  next 
afternoon  that  they  had  reasoned  to  the  conclusion 
that  to  do  right  was  his  sole  duty,  and  that  to  shrink 
from  conditions  which  might  sometimes  render  the 
right  embarrassing  or  difficult  would  be  a  confession 
of  unworthiness  for  the  office  they  both  wished  to 
magnify. 

Mrs.  Enderby  came  away  from  Boston  with  all  the 
reluctance  that  she  had  foreseen;  but,  though  she 
was  followed  by  the  sympathies  of  her  friends,  she 
had  as  yet  experienced  nothing  which  turned  her 
mind  towards  them  in  longing  for  their  pity.  Sax- 
mills  had  not  proved  quite  the  social  desert,  beset 
with  dangers,  which  she  had  sometimes  foreboded. 
She  had  there,  as  everywhere,  her  husband,  first  and 
foremost ;  and,  besides,  there  were  several  people  she 
liked.  Not  counting  those  she  loved  because  they 
were  poor  and  sick  and  dependent,  there  were, 
among  those  she  liked,  Judge  Garley  and  his  wife, 
who  were  agreeable  mid-Massachusetts  town-folk, 
reasonably  cultivated  and  passably  acquainted  with 
life,  by  reason  of  several  winters'  official  residence  in 
Boston;  and  she  liked  Mrs.  Langbrith,  ordinarily, 

171 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

very  much,  though  she  was  not  quite  what  Mrs.  En- 
derby  would  have  quite  called  cultivated,  and  cer 
tainly  not  acquainted  with  life.  But  her  shy  charm 
was  a  great  charm  for  Mrs.  Enderby,  and  it  was 
much  in  her  favor  that  she  always  made  Mrs.  Ender 
by  think  of  that  old-fashioned,  late-summer  flower, 
mourning  -  bride.  The  abiding  girlishness  of  the 
long- widowed,  middle-aging  woman  responded  to  a 
girlishness  of  her  own,  from  which  she  was  fond  of 
all  the  nice  young  girls  of  the  village,  like  Hope  Haw- 
berk  and  Susie  Johns  and  Jessamy  Colebridge,  and 
such  others  as  did  not  dismay  her  by  their  fearless 
ness  with  the  young  men.  Outside  of  the  mills,  the 
young  men  were,  indeed,  so  few  that  there  was,  per 
haps,  not  much  reason  to  be  afraid  of  them.  But, 
above  all,  she  liked  and  respected  and  honored  Dr. 
Anther,  whose  life  had  such  a  daily  beauty  that  she 
could  better  have  expressed  her  sense  of  it  if  she 
were  still  a  Unitarian  than  she  could  now  she  was  a 
churchwoman.  She  was  constantly  finding  him  in 
the  houses  of  affliction,  which  she  visited  in  her  own 
quality  of  good  angel,  and  it  was  without  surprise 
or  any  feeling  of  coincidence  that  she  now  met  him 
coming  to  the  gate  of  a  common  patient,  which  she 
opened  next  after  closing  Mrs.  Langbrith's. 

She  merely  said,  "  Oh,  how  delightful,  Dr.  Anther! 
I  was  just  thinking  of  you."  And  then  she  added, 
"I  hope  you  leave  our  poor  sufferer  better?" 

"  You  will,  after  you  have  seen  her,"  the  doctor 
said,  shifting  his  little  bag  of  medicines  from  his 
right  to  his  left  hand,  so  as  to  take  the  hand  of  Mrs. 
Enderby  put  out  to  him.  He  had  a  fine  perception 

J72 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

of  her  lady- world  in  Mrs.  Enderby,  and  liked  to  say 
as  nice  things  as  he  could  to  her.  "  She  needs  cheer 
ing  up,  and  you'll  be  better  for  her  than  my  medi 
cine." 

"  If  I  could  believe  you  were  serious  in  your  civili 
ties,  I  should  be  conceited;  but  I  know  you  only 
say  such  things  to  cheer  me  up — not  that  I  need  it 
just  now.  I've  been  to  see  Mrs.  Langbrith,  and  she 
has  reassured  me  in  regard  to  a  strange  report  I  had 
heard.  I  wonder  if  you  had?" 

11  Better  try  me,"  Anther  said,  twitching  his  bag 
up  and  down  with  a  latent  impatience. 

"Why,  merely  that  her  son  had  given  up  the 
notion  of  the  memorial  tablet  for  the  library  front. 
Had  you?" 

"No,"  Anther  replied,  shortly,  jerking  his  bag 
with  open  violence. 

"Well,  if  you  do,  there's  nothing  in  it,  as  far  as 
his  mother  has  heard.  He  has  changed  his  mind 
about  having  the  dedication  on  Decoration  Day, 
and  the  report  probably  arose  from  that."  The 
doctor  said  nothing,  and  once  more  Mrs.  Enderby 
was  bruised  and  disappointed  by  the  bluntness  of 
village  manners — this  time  from  one  who  had  al 
ways  been  so  responsive.  But  she  rose  above  it, 
as  she  would  have  said,  so  far  as  to  excuse  him  in 
consoling  herself.  "  But  I  see  your  mind  is  on  your 
next  patient,  doctor.  It's  cruel  of  me  to  keep  you, 
and  I  won't  any  longer.  Good-bye!" 

She  went  in  to  cheer  up  the  sick  woman,  but  even 
after  the  exhilarating  effort  she  came  away  with  a 
little  lingering  impression  of  Dr.  Anther's  indiffer- 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ence  to  her  news.  She  submitted  her  impression  to 
her  husband,  whom  she  found  struggling  with  a  ser 
mon  of  an  hour's  length  rebellious  to  his  ideal  of 
twenty-five  minutes.  He  detached  himself  to  ex 
amine  the  impression,  and  to  match  it  with  one  he 
had  brought  away  from  the  supper  at  Mrs.  Lang- 
brith's,  when  Dr.  Anther  had  received  young  Lang 
brith 's  proposal  of  the  tablet  with  so  little  interest. 
"  Perhaps,"  he  suggested,  "it  is  not  that  country  un- 
couthness  altogether;  there  may  not  have  been  all 
that  friendliness  between  the  doctor  and  the  elder 
Langbrith  which  we  have  inferred  from  his  present 
relations  to  the  family." 

"Why,  have  you  heard  anything  of  that  kind?" 
Mrs.  Enderby  was  of  an  eagerness  in  her  inquiry 
which  her  husband  thought  it  well  to  repress. 

"No,  nothing  at  all.  It's  pure  conjecture  with 
me." 

"It  would  be  very  interesting."  Mrs.  Enderby 
sighed  for  the  evident  want  of  foundation  in  fact. 

"Yes,  but,  Alice,  don't  let  it  take  possession  of 
your  fancy.  It  would  be  very  unjust  and  it  might 
be  injurious." 

"  Oh,  I  should  not  dream  of  mentioning  it  to  any 
one.  To  whom  could  I  ?  But  it  happens  to  tally — 
is  that  slang?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  is." 

"  I  oughtn't  to  use  it  if  it  is,  in  a  place  like  this. 
It  happens  to  tally  with  something  that  has  come 
into  my  mind.  I  have  always  wondered  why  Dr. 
Anther  doesn't  marry  Mrs.  Langbrith." 

"He  may  not  wish  it,  or  she  may  not." 
174 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"It  would  be  such  an  appropriate  thing.  They 
are  old  friends,  and  they  are  not  too  old.  Her  son 
will  soon  be  leaving  her — I  know  he's  in  love  with 
that  poo/,  pretty,  joyous  Hope  Hawberk;  and  the 
doctor  must  have  always  been  very  uncomfortable 
at  Mrs.  Burwell's,  and  now  she's  going  to  break 
up,  and  where  will  he  go?" 

"He  certainly  might  do  worse  than  go  to  Mrs. 
Langbrith's,"  the  rector  allowed;  "but  still  there  is 
no  more  proof  that  he  wishes  to  marry  Langbrith's 
widow  than  that  he  bears  a  grudge  to  his  memory." 

"No,  but  don't  you  see  that,  if  he  did  want  to 
marry  Mrs.  Langbrith,  it  would  make  him  willing 
to  have  Mr.  Langbrith  forgotten?  Wouldn't  that 
be  natural?" 

"I'm  afraid  it  would,  Alice,"  the  rector  said,  with 
a  regretful  recognition  of  a  trait  of  fallen  man. 

"And  wouldn't  it  account  both  for  the  way  Dr. 
Anther  behaved  that  night  and  for  the  way  he  be 
haved  just  now?" 

"It  might;  but  don't  you  see  we  are  proceeding 
upon  a  pure  hypothesis?" 

"That  is  true,"  she  consented;  and  now,  having 
not  before  removed  her  hat,  she  pulled  out  the  long 
pins  that  pierced  its  sides  into  the  mass  of  her  hand 
some  graying  hair,  and  lifted  it  off,  carried  it  out  of 
the  study  on  her  hand,  thoughtfully  considering  it 
as  she  went. 

"Of  course,  Alice,"  he  called  after  her,  "we  must 
both  be  careful  to  keep  our  hypothesis  to  ourselves." 

"Oh  yes,  indeed!  I  shall  be  very  careful  not  to 
speak  of  it." 


XX 

AFTER  indulging  his  resentment  of  Hope's  ridi 
cule  to  the  violent  extreme  of  renouncing  all  inten 
tion  of  the  memorial  tablet,  Langbrith  allowed  a 
natural  revulsion  of  feeling  to  carry  him  so  far  back 
as  a  renunciation  of  Hope  instead.  He  wrote  her 
an  angry  letter,  in  answer  to  hers  asking  him  not  to 
mind  anything  she  had  said  for  the  reason  that  she 
was  not  worth  minding  herself.  Then  he  felt  so 
much  stronger  that  he  returned  to  his  intention, 
and  got  Falk  to  go  with  him  into  Boston  to  the 
studio  of  the  young  sculptor  who  was  modelling  the 
bas-relief.  It  had  to  be  done  from  few  and  rather 
poor  photographs,  for  it  had  not  been  one  of  his 
father's  excesses  to  sit  often  for  his  picture.  There 
were  some  ferrotypes  and  still  older  daguerreotypes 
from  which  the  sculptor  had  imagined  a  head  more 
or  less  ideal.  Falk  tacitly  considered  the  ideal  an 
improvement  on  the  portrait  in  the  library  at  Sax- 
mills,  and  he  had  kept  Langbrith  from  sending  for 
the  painting  by  sufficiently  offensive  censures  of  its 
woodenness.  Besides,  as  that  was  from  a  photo 
graph,  too,  he  held  that  there  would  be  no  advan 
tage  in  studying  the  tablet  from  it. 

The  young  sculptor  was  a  find  of  Langbrith's  in 
the  course  of  his  own  aesthetic  development.  He 

176 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  seen  some  idealistic  banalities  of  the  artist  in 
an  art -dealer's  window,  and  had  liked  them  so 
much  that  he  had  got  Falk  to  come  and  look  at  them, 
too,  and  then  join  him  in  looking  up  the  sculptor, 
who,  when  looked  up,  proved  to  be  a  beautiful,  pov 
erty-stricken  young  Jew,  with  black  hair  bushing  out 
over  a  fine  forehead,  and,  under  the  forehead,  mo 
bile,  attentive  eyes.  He  had  a  profile  more  Hellenic 
than  Hebraic,  and  cheeks  and  chin  already  blue 
from  shaving  a  dense  beard.  It  appeared  that  he 
had  made  the  banalities  to  sell,  and  that  he  could  do 
stronger  if  not  truer  things,  as  the  casts  in  his  studio 
witnessed.  He  entered  into  the  motive  of  the  me 
dallion,  as  Langbrith  presented  it,  with  an  ardor 
that  matched  Langbrith's,  and  he  roughed  it  out 
in  the  clay  so  quickly  that  in  twenty-four  hours  he 
had  something  to  show  his  patron.  He  had  con 
ceived  so  aptly  of  his  patron,  if  not  of  his  subject, 
that  he  flattered  the  effigy  of  the  elder  Langbrith 
into  a  likeness  of  the  son,  who  stood  before  it  in 
content  little  short  of  ecstasy. 

"Falk,"  he  said,  "it  has  the  ancestral  look — the 
look  of  race.  I  can  see  myself  in  it.  That  must 
have  been  the  way  my  father  looked.  Wonderful!" 

"It  is  like  you,"  Falk  said,  with  a  glance  at  the 
sculptor,  who  was  watching  Langbrith  with  subtle 
and  shifty  eyes.  "  I  always  supposed  you  rather 
resembled  your  mother." 

"Not  at  all,"  Langbrith  retorted.  "There  may 
be  something  in  our  features,  but  her  expression  is 
totally  different.  I  see  nothing  of  my  mother  in 
this." 

177 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Well,  if  you're  satisfied,  that's  the  end  of  the 
story." 

"  But  look,  Falk,  look  at  these  old  pictures!"  At 
the  first  question  the  sculptor  had  supplied  them, 
and  Langbrith  now  held  them  in  his  hand,  studying 
them  and  then  the  sketch.  "You  can  see  that  the 
outline  is  the  same,  and  Mr.  Lily  has  read  the  char 
acter  into  the  face  which  these  caricatures  belie. 
It's  the  artistic  resurrection  from  the  mechanical 
death  of  these  tintypes.  It's  miraculous!" 

"Well,  Mr.  Lily  probably  believes  in  miracles." 

The  sculptor  presented  an  impervious  surface  to 
the  smile  of  Falk's  irony,  and  Langbrith  continued 
to  effervesce  without  heeding  his  friend. 

"And  you've  taken  my  notion  most  delightfully 
about  the  inscription,  Mr,  Lily.  It's  just  the  effect 
I  wanted,  fronting  the  eyes  there  in  those  lines  of 
compact  capitals,  and  balanced  by  that  low  relief  of 
the  mills  at  the  back  of  the  head.  Of  course,  I 
know  that  there's  nothing  definite  in  those  details 
yet ;  but  the  face  is  so  perfect,  so  struck  as  if  with  a 
die,  that  I  dread  to  have  you  touch  it.  Do  you 
think  you  can  keep  just  that  look  in  working 
it  up?" 

The  young  sculptor  pouted  his  handsome,  thick, 
red  lips,  and  said,  "I  think  so,"  stealing  a  glance 
from  his  subject  to  his  patron. 

"Well,"  Langbrith  sighed,  "I  shall  have  to  trust 
you,"  and  Falk  laughed  out.  "What's  the  mat 
ter?"  Langbrith  demanded. 

"  Of  course  you'll  have  to  trust  him!  You're  not 
running  this  work  of  art." 

178 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Oh,  I  didn't  understand  you.  Of  course!  And 
how  soon  can  you  have  it  done,  Mr.  Lily?" 

"  How  long  can  you  give  me  ?"  the  sculptor  asked. 

"  I  did  think  of  Decoration  Day  for  the  dedication, 
but  I've  changed  my  mind  about  that.  I  think 
now  I  will  have  it  on  my  father's  birthday — the 
2 Qth  of  June.  Could  you  have  it  ready  by  that 
time?" 

The  sculptor  seemed  considering  seriously,  and 
at  last  he  said,  reluctantly,  as  certain  people  do 
to  enhance  the  value  of  a  concession,  "  I  think  I 
can,  if  there's  no  delay  in  the  foundry.  If  there  is, 
you  know  you  can  dedicate  a  gilded  plaster  copy 
and  put  up  the  bronze  later — any  time." 

"Ah,  I  don't  believe  I  should  like  that.  It 
wouldn't  be  in  character  with  my  father.  He  al 
ways  paid  cash.  I  shall  trust  you  to  have  it  ready 
in  time.  I  know  you  can  have  it  done." 

Langbrith  remained  studying  the  sketch  until 
Falk's  restiveness  obliged  him  to  break  from  it. 
The  more  he  saw  himself  in  his  portrait  of  his  father, 
the  better  he  was  pleased,  and  the  truer  he  decided 
the  likeness  to  be.  The  family  look  certainly  was 
there,  and  what  greater  truth  could  he  ask?  With 
all  the  self-satisfaction  of  the  academic  side  of  his 
nature  he  rejoiced  in  what  he  decided  to  be  an 
ideal  presentation  of  his  father's  face. 

The  sculptor  followed  him  and  Falk  to  the  door 
of  his  studio,  and  bowed  them  out. 

"Little  Sheeny!"  Falk  observed,  when  the  door 
had  closed  upon  them. 

"He  says  he  is  an  Italian,  but  he's  all  the  finer 
179 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

artist  for  his  drop  of  the  'indelible  blood,'"  Lang- 
brith  said,  still  rejoicing. 

"Every  drop  of  blood  in  his  body  is  indelible. 
He  ought  to  be  a  puller-in.  He  could  sell  you  any 
misfit  in  the  store.  I'll  do  a  puller-in  at  a  Roman 
statuary's  for  Caricature,  and  I'll  have  this  fellow 
working  off  a  Mercury  on  you,  come  up  from  your 
Sabine  papyrus-mill.'' 

"If  you  didn't  like  it,  Falk— " 

"Why  not  say  so?  What  good  would  that  have 
done,  with  your  infatuation  ?  Besides,  I  didn't  say 
I  didn't  like  it.  There's  a  lot  of  infernal  chic  about 
it.  In  its  way  it's  damnably  good,  but  it's  you, 
you  poor  innocent,  right  over  again,  and  that's 
what  he  was  aiming  at  from  the  first  moment  he  got 
those  eyes  of  his  afloat  on  you." 

"If  that's  the  way  you  feel—  '  Langbrith  began, 
half  turning. 

Falk  caught  him  by  the  coat  lapel  and  pulled  him 
round  again.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  Counter 
mand  it?  You  couldn't  get  a  better  job,  and  the 
poor  devil  needs  the  job.  Don't  I  tell  you  it's 
good?  It's  all  the  better  for  having  so  much  of 
you  in  it,  if  I  do  say  it  that  hate  to.  Come!  you've 
blundered  and'  he's  swindled  into  the  very  thing. 
Let  him  go  on!" 

Langbrith  moved  reluctantly  forward.  "If  I 
could  trust  you,  Falk—" 

"You've  got  to." 

"I  never  can  make  you  understand  how  I  feel 
about  my  father.  He's  a  religion  with  me,  and 
anything  that  seems  to  belittle  him  or  belie  him  is 

1 80 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

a  profanation.  If  I  didn't  feel  that  somehow  the 
fellow  had  got  my  father  into  the  thing,  I  wouldn't 
let  him  go  on.  Of  course,  I  can  see  that  he  has  had 
to  work  back  from  me — get  the  life  into  it  from  me ! 
But,  apart  from  the  question  of  the  likeness,  don't 
you  think  it's  good  ?" 

"Haven't  I  said  so?  The  fellow  has  done  it 
mighty  well." 

"He  has  taken  all  my  suggestions,"  Langbrith 
said,  reaching  out  for  a  little  more  kindness. 

"Yes,  and  Saint-Gaudensized  them.  That's  all 
right.  That  was  the  thing  to  do.  At  this  time  of 
day  he  couldn't  get  away  from  Saint-Gaudens." 

"I'm  anxious  to  have  him  go  on,"  Langbrith 
dreamily  continued,  "because  he  can  get  it  done 
in  time,  and  I  don't  know  who  else  could."  He 
hesitated,  as  he  must,  even  in  the  intimacy  of  his 
confidence  with  Falk,  before  adding:  "I've  just 
told  Hope  that  I'm  having  him  do  it.  I've  told  her 
that  I  had  taken  it  up  again." 

"Why,  had  you  dropped  it?" 

"Yes,"  Langbrith  owned,  uneasily.  "We  had  a 
little  misunderstanding  about  having  the  dedication 
on  Decoration  Day.  Falk,  I  want  to  tell  you;  but 
you're  so  sharp— 

"Oh,  go  on.  I'll  spare  you  on  condition  that 
you're  honest." 

"Well,  you  know  she  didn't  approve  of  that  idea, 
and  she  put  it  in  such  a  light  about  its  not  being 
fair  to  take  the  day  from  the  old  soldiers  whom  it 
belonged  to  that  I  saw  it  just  as  she  did,  and  I 
telegraphed  her — " 

181 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Telegraphed!"  Falk  opened  his  mouth  for  a 
laugh,  but  shut  it  again  without  laughing. 

"Oh,  laugh!  I  don't  care  now!  And  she  came 
back  at  me  with  a  letter  that  cut  me  to  the  quick. 
She's  terribly  sarcastic,  or  can  be.  She  made  all 
sorts  of  fun  of  me  for  thinking  my  agreement  with 
her  opinion  so  important  that  it  could  not  wait  for 
a  letter.  Of  course,  she  put  it  in  the  way  of  mock 
ing  at  herself,  saying  that  she  never  supposed  be 
fore  that  she  was  of  so  much  consequence  that  her 
opinions  had  to  be  accepted  by  telegraph.  It 
ground  me  awfully,  and  I  took  it  like  a  perfect  ass." 

"Naturally!"  Falk  interjected. 

"Oh,  don't  mind  me!"  Langbrith  exulted.  "I 
wish  I  could  always  be  an  ass  to  such  purpose.  I 
wrote  back  to  her  that  she  needn't  be  anxious  here 
after,  for  I  had  given  up  the  whole  scheme  of  the 
tablet,  and  I  should  never  trouble  her  again  by 
my  method  of  asking  or  acknowledging  her  opin 


ions." 


"That  sounds  so  wise  that  it  must  be  true,"  said 
Falk.  "Go  on.  I  thought  I  knew  you,  my  young 
friend,  but  you  are  unfathomable." 

"  I  begin  to  believe  it.  And  that  brought  a  letter 
from  her,  protesting  against  my  giving  up — very 
dignified  and  impersonal,  and  all  that;  but  I  was 
still  so  sore  that  I  let  her  letter  go  unanswered  a 
couple  of  days,  and  then  there  came  another  from 
her,  entreating  me  to  go  on  with  my  plan,  and  say 
ing  if  I  didn't  she  never  could  forgive  herself;  that 
she  had  not  meant  anything  by  what  she  said  of 
my  telegraphing ;  that  it  was  only  fun,  and  I  oughtn't 

182 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

to  take  it  in  earnest ;  but  if  I  must,  she  withdrew  it 
all.  She  said  she  knew  that  if  it  got  about  that  I 
was  going  to  give  up  the  plan  it  would  make  all 
sorts  of  talk  and  be  very  disagreeable." 

"She  had  probably  told  about  your  telegraphing 
to  some  of  the  other  girls,"  Falk  interpreted.  "  Susie 
Johns,  likely.  Or  even  Jessamy  Colebridge." 

"That  was  what  I  thought  at  first,  and  it  made 
me  madder  still." 

"Yes,  you  are  that  kind  of  ass,"  Falk  assented. 

"So  I  decided  not  to  answer  that  second  letter. 
And  then  came  one  that  was  fairly  imploring.  It 
was  dated  a  day  later,  and  she  said  in  it  that  ?he 
was  so  miserable  she  had  to  write  again,  and  she 
should  not  rest  till  she  heard  I  was  going  on  with 
my  plan." 

"You  must  have  felt  proud." 

"No,  I  didn't.     I  felt  ashamed." 

"I'm  surprised." 

"Oh,  I  deserve  anything  you  can  say.  She  kept 
up  the  effect  of  joking,  but  she  must  have  been  se 
rious,  or  she  wouldn't  have  written  three  times." 

"And  having  brought  the  suppliant  to  her  knees, 
what  did  the  Prince  of  Saxmills  graciously  deign  to 
answer?" 

"The  P.  of  S.  had  already  answered  the  second 
letter,  on  second  thoughts.  He  had  written  to  tell 
her  not  to  think  of  the  matter  again;  for,  on 
looking  it  all  over,  he  found  that  he  couldn't  re 
linquish  the  plan  now.  He  tried  to  make  his  deci 
sion  seem  unrelated  to  her,  because  he  didn't  think 
it  fair  to  take  the  advantage  she  had  given  him." 

183 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  Falk  said.  "It's  a  little 
fact  that  enables  me  to  continue  your  acquaintance, 
which  I  was  just  going  to  drop.  Langbrith,  don't 
you  know  that  that  girl  is  one  of  the  most — " 

"  I  think  I  don't  need  any  one  to  tell  me  what  she 
is,"  Langbrith  interrupted,  haughtily.  Then  he  in 
stantly  stooped  from  his  height.  "  But  I  appreciate 
your  feeling,  and  I  thank  you.  I  was  glad  that  I 
had  answered  her  second  letter,  and  that  my  answer 
and  her  third  had  crossed,  because  I  got  a  letter 
from  my  mother  with  the  third  from  Hope,  saying 
Hope  had  been  to  see  her,  and  had  told  her  the 
trouble  she  was  in.  I  shouldn't  have  liked  her  to 
think  I  had  done  for  my  mother,  even,  what  I 
wouldn't  do  for  her." 

"Yes,  you  saved  your  distance.  I  congratulate 
you." 

"That's  mighty  kind  of  you,"  said  Langbrith, 
fondly.  "And  you  think — you  think,  don't  you, 
that  the  whole  situation  looks  rather  favorable  for 
me?" 

"Oh,  come  now!  I  can't  go  into  that,  Lang 
brith.  It's  more  than  I  bargained  for." 

Langbrith  went  on  dreamily:  "She  must  have 
been  a  good  deal  troubled.  She  asked  my  mother 
how  it  would  do  to  get  Dr.  Anther  to  write  to  me, 
and  my  mother  had  to  put  her  off  by  promising  to 
ask  him  herself.  Afterwards  she  decided  not  to 
ask,  but  to  write  to  me  instead.  I  rather  wish  she 
had  asked  the  doctor,"  he  concluded,  meditatively. 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  there  is  something  that  has  rankled  in  me 

184 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ever  since  the  night  of  our  supper-dance — the  way 
Anther  took  my  proposal  of  the  tablet.  Didn't  you 
notice  anything  peculiar  in  his  manner?" 

"  He  didn't  seem  to  take  a  great  deal  of  interest," 
Falk  owned. 

"He  is  the  oldest  living  friend  of  my  father.  I 
didn't  like  it.  I  had  it  out  with  my  mother,  the 
next  morning,  and  perhaps  that  made  her  reluctant 
to  ask  him  to  take  any  part  in  it.  She  is  very  proud 
where  there  is  any  question  of  slight  to  me,  and  I 
suppose  she  felt  as  I  did  about  my  father.  Perhaps 
she  found  she  couldn't  do  what  she  promised  Hope. 
But  that's  a  small  matter.  The  great  thing  is  that 
I  hadn't  waited  for  her  letter  before  writing  to  Hope. 
I  can't  be  too  glad  of  that.  I  should  have  hated 
even  to  seem  to  have  done  for  another  what  I  hadn't 
done  for  her.  I'm  hard  hit,  and  you  know  it,  Falk, 
and  now  you've  got  to  listen.  That  girl  is  the  rarest 
human  creature  on  this  earth." 

"Why  not  say  in  the  universe,  and  be  done  with 
it?" 

"  Because  I  don't  want  to  wrong  her  by  any  sort 
of  extravagance.  She's  so  perfect,  she  has  such 
poise,  such  spiritual  proportion — through  her  sense 
of  humor,  I  suppose — that  any  sort  of  excess  seems 
an  insult  to  her.  She's  wonderful:  I  see  that  more 
and  more.  Sometimes,  when  I  think  of  her  hard 
life  with  that  opium-eating  father  of  hers  and  that 
belated  old  Puritan  of  a  grandmother,  and  how  her 
days  must  pass  between  the  horrors,  of  his  narcotic 
and  her  religious  frenzies,  I  wonder  she  can  keep 
her  sanity.  But  she  is  the  sanest  and  sweetest  and 

185 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

wholesomest  and  loveliest  soul  alive.  She  doesn't 
seem  any  more  related  to  her  surroundings  or  origin 
than  the  singing  that  you  hear  come  out  of  a  church 
window  in  summer,  and  that  you  can't  connect  with 
the  stifling  and  perspiring  congregation  inside.  It's 
disembodied  worship,  and  she's  just  joyous  girlhood 
incarnate." 

"Oh,  Lord!  I  can't  stand  much  more  of  this!" 
Falk  groaned. 

"When  I  think  of  her,"  Langbrith  went  on,  care 
less  of  his  sufferings,  "I  seem  to  myself  the  most 
contemptible  and  unworthy  caricature  of  humanity 
—full  of  every  kind  of  ridiculous  imperfection  and 
detestable  defect;  a  wrong-headed,  stubborn  mule, 
with  an  instinct  for  kicking  at  the  wrong  time  and  in 
the  wrong  place,  with  a  hide  so  thick  and  a  fibre  so 
coarse  that  any  suggestion  for  its  own  good,  short 
of  a  big  stick,  is  lost  on  it." 

"Well,  now,"  Falk  got  in  his  revenge,  "you  can 
understand  just  how  you  seem  to  other  people  a 
good  deal  of  the  time  when  you're  not  thinking  of 
her." 


XXI 

"WHAT'S  this  I  hear?"  Hope's  grandmother  re 
quired  of  the  gayety  which,  even  beyond  the  girl's 
cheerful  wont,  marked  her  rebound  from  her  trouble 
after  Langbrith's  second  letter  came.  "  Folks  are 
sayin'  that  James  is  not  goin'  to  put  that  inscription 
of  his  father  on  the  library,  and  then  again  that  he 
is.  You  know  anything  about  it,  Hope?" 

"Yes,  I  know  all  about  it,  grandma.  They're 
right  both  ways.  He  wasn't  and  he  is,  unless  he's 
changed  his  mind  again." 

'  *  How  do  you  know  ?' ' 

"He's  written  to  tell  me." 

The  old  woman's  eyes  flared  on  the  smile  in  the 
girl's.  "What's  James  Langbrith  writin'  to  you  so 
much  for?" 

"  He  seems  to  like  to." 

"You  engaged  to  him?" 

"Not  at  present,  grandma." 

"Better  see  't  you  ain't.  I  don't  like  the  breed 
any  too  well.  I  hain't  ever  been  satisfied  at  the 
way  he  got  your  father  out  of  the  business,  and  your 
mother  wa'n't  at  the  time.  But  she's  in  her  grave 
now,  and  your  father  can't  ever  be  got  to  say  a 
sensible  word  about  it;  just  praises  him  up,  if  you 
try  to  talk  with  him,  when  everybody  knows  that 

187 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Royal  Langbrith  never  drew  an  unselfish  breath. 
He  never  went  to  church  and  he  never  darkened 
anybody's  doors  in  the  place,  and  why  he  gave  that 
library  to  the  town  nobody  will  ever  know.  It 
wa'n't  like  him  to  give  anything;  and  I  guess  if  your 
father  could  be  got  to  tell  the  truth  once,  folks 
would  sing  a  different  song.  I  don't  like  your  close- 
mouthed  kind,  that  force  one  out  of  partnership 
and  never  say  why  nor  wherefore." 

A  yell  from  the  chamber  in  the  half-story  over 
the  room  where  the  two  women  sat  at  breakfast 
offered  itself  an  apt  explanation.  Groans  and  sighs 
followed,  and  gasps  of  prayer  and  thanksgiving,  and 
then  muffled  fumblings  and  stumblings  on  the  floor, 
as  of  a  man  getting  out  of  bed  and  dressing. 

'  *  My !  how  it  does  always  go  through  me  !'  *  the 
old  woman  quavered.  "I  don't  see  how  you  can 
take  it  so,  Hope!  I  can't  seem  to  get  used  to  it!" 

"  I  was  born  used  to  it,"  the  girl  answered,  with  a 
patience  that  was  cheerful,  even  smiling.  "  He  hasn't 
had  such  a  dream  for  a  good  while.  He  must  have 
been  at  the  laudanum  bottle,  instead  of  the  other. 
I'll  just  look."  She  ran  quickly  up  the  crooking 
stairs,  and  her  voice  made  itself  heard  in  fond  re 
proach.  "Now,  father,  how  could  you?  What's 
the  use  of  my  trying  to  trust  you?  And  don't 
you  see  what  it  does?  Just  throws  away  all  the 
good  effects,  .and  brings  us  back  where  we  were 
before." 

"Yes,"  she  reported  triumphantly  to  her  grand 
mother,  as  she  reappeared  with  a  large,  empty  bot 
tle  in  her  hand.  "It's  just  as  I  supposed,  and  I've 

1 88 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

got  to  go  and  tell  Dr.  Anther  as  soon  as  I've  taken 
father  some  coffee.  Will  you  put  it  on  the  stove, 
grandma,  while  I  help  him  dress?  I  must  hurry." 

She  found  Anther  at  his  office,  after  his  some 
what  later  breakfast,  and  he  could  not  refuse  to 
smile  when  she  reported  the  fact  in  its  humorous 
aspect,  with  an  unbroken  trust  in  the  fortunate 
result. 

"  I  guess  we've  got  to  begin  again,  Dr.  Anther," 
she  said,  uncovering  the  empty  bottle.  "You  see 
what  father's  been  doing!" 

"  How  came  you  to  notice  ?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  a  dream  that  almost  raised  the  roof,"  she 
laughed.  "  I  should  have  thought  it  was  the  skele 
ton-man  and  the  green  dwarf  both,  but  I  didn't  ask. 
When  I  found  this,  it  wasn't  necessary."  She  of 
fered  him  the  bottle,  which  he  received  with  a  face 
losing  its  sympathetic  cheerfulness.  Her  eager 
nerves  took  alarm  at  his  gravity.  "  You  don't  think 
he's  worse?" 

"Oh  no" — the  doctor  came  back  to  his  profes 
sional  reassurance — "it's  a  little  disappointment 
when  we  had  got  him  so  far  along,  that's  all.  But  it's 
not  a  thing  to  discourage  us.  We  shall  have  to  begin 
over  again,  as  you  say."  He  set  the  bottle  aside. 
"I'll  bring  it  to  him,  and  have  a  talk  with  him." 

"  Oh,  do!"  the  girl  said,  back  in  her  gayety  again. 
"Your  talks  do  him  more  good  than  the  medicine, 
I  believe.  I  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  you  my 
self  the  other  day." 

"  You  haven't  taken  to  laudanum,  I  hope,"  the 
doctor  said,  returning  to  his  smile. 

189 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Well,  it  was  something  that  gave  me  bad  dreams 
while  it  lasted.  I  thought  I  had  made  mischief, 
and  made  it  out  of  pure  silliness."  The  doctor's 
smile  took  on  the  incredulity  that  prompted  her  to 
go  on.  "  Yes,  I  did,  I  made  mischief — set  the  gos 
sip  going.  You  know  you  have  heard  it,  Dr.  An 
ther — about  James  Langbrith  giving  up  putting  the 
tablet  to  his  father,  and  then  deciding  to  do  it?" 
The  doctor  reluctantly  assented.  "  Well,  I  did 
that."  She  possessed  him,  laughing  and  blushing, 
of  the  whole  case,  and  then  waited  confidently  for  her 
acquittal,  or,  rather,  went  confidently  on  without 
it  as  something  that  might  be  taken  for  granted. 
"Before  James  decided  to  do  it,  finally,  I  was  so 
worked  up  that  I  went  to  Mrs.  Langbrith,  and 
coaxed  her  to  ask  you  to  write  to  him  and  tell  him 
to  go  on.  She  promised,  but  concluded  to  write 
to  him  herself.  By  that  time  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  on,  anyway.  You  see  what  a  narrow 
escape  you  had.  I  thought  I  ought  to  tell  you." 

The  doctor  said,  "Yes,  that's  right,"  and  then 
a  vagueness  came  into  his  gaze  that  made  the  girl 
laugh. 

"Well,  I'm  going  now,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that." 

"Well,  I'm  going  before  you  do" 

"Hope,  you're  a  good  girl,"  Anther  said.  "I 
mustn't  praise  you  to  your  face;  but  if  any  one  ever 
wonders  to  you  that  you  can  keep  up  as  you  do, 
you  tell  them  I  say  they  don't  know  anything  about 
it;  that  there  isn't  one  in  ten  thousand  that  could 
bear  as  you  do  what  you  have  to  bear;  but  don't 

190 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ever  get  to  supposing  that  it's  your  duty  to  be  sad 
about  it.     It's  your  duty  to  be  gay." 

"Well,  that's  what  I  like  being,  you  know,  Dr. 
Anther.  It's  so  easy  that  it  doesn't  seem  like  very 
much  of  a  duty." 

She  had  risen,  and  she  stood  prettily  smiling  at 
him ;  and  he  looked  at  her,  and  then  suddenly  turned 
his  back  on  her,  as  if  shunning  a  temptation.  He 
longed  to  take  her  in  his  arms.  "Well,  I'll  be  up 
in  the  course  of  the  forenoon." 

Before  he  went  to  see  Hawberk  he  dropped  his 
buggy  anchor  before  the  Langbrith  mills,  and  found 
his  way  through  the  works,  where  the  odor  of  wash 
day  from  the  pulp-vats  was  only  denser  than  it  was 
outside,  to  the  office  partitioned  off  in  a  corner  of 
the  building.  He  pushed  open  the  door,  which 
closed  with  a  weighted  cord,  and  shut  himself  in 
with  John  Langbrith. 

The  manager  was  sitting  at  his  desk,  and  at  the 
opening  and  closing  of  the  door,  which,  through  the 
shuddering  and  muttering  of  the  machinery,  made 
itself  seen  rather  than  heard,  he  got  lankly  up  and 
took  the  doctor's  offered  hand,  which  he  pushed 
horizontally  back  and  forth  without  looking  at  him. 
"Good -morning,  doctor,"  he  said,  and  then  he 
glanced  at  the  papers  on  his  desk  with  a  desperate 
sigh. 

"John  Langbrith,"  Anther  began,  at  once,  "you 
know  about  this  scheme  of  James's  for  putting  up 
a  tablet  to  his  father?" 

"I've  heard  about  it.    I  heard  he  had  dropped  it." 

"  He's  going  on  with  it." 
191 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Well,  what  have  I  got  to  do  with  it?  I've  got 
enough  on  my  hands  looking  after  my  job  here  in 
the  mills." 

" Has  he  consulted  you  about  it?" 

"No." 

"Well,  I  advise  you  to  write  to  him  and  urge 
him  to  stop  it." 

John  Langbrith  lifted  his  narrow,  yellow  eyes  and 
met  the  doctor's.  "Why?" 

"  You  know  what  your  brother  really  was." 

"  So  do  you.   Why  don't  you  tell  James  to  stop  it  ?" 

"That's  nonsense.  Sometime  the  truth  must 
come  out." 

"You  mean  that  you  will  give  it  away?" 

"That's  stuff!     But  there  are  others." 

"  Hawberk  ?     What's  his  word  worth  ?" 

"Nothing  now.     But  if  he  pulls  up — " 

"He'll  never  pull  up." 

"  I  have  hopes  of  curing  him,  and  I  tell  you  that, 
when  the  truth  comes  out,  there  will  be  shame  and 
sorrow  for  that  boy  and  scandal  for  the  community. 
It  isn't  for  me  to  tell  him  about  his  father,  and  you 
know  his  mother  can't.  It's  for  you,  or  for  Haw- 
berk." 

"He's  making  up  to  Hawberk's  girl,  ain't  he? 
Then  they  can  fix  it  with  Hawberk.  My  job  is  to 
look  after  the  mills.  I'm  not  going  outside  of  it." 

"It  would  be  an  outrage  to  let  that  girl  marry 
the  son  of  the  man  who  ruined  her  father,  and  you 
will  be  a  partaker  in  the  wrong  unless  you  speak. 
Tell  James  about  it,  and  let  him  act  from  his  in 
stincts  of  honor  and  justice." 

192 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  I  can't  go  outside  of  my  job." 

"If  he's  allowed  to  go  on  and  marry  that  poor 
girl,  it  will  be  taking  a  cruel  advantage  of  her.  She 
will  be  marrying  him  blindfold.  She  will  be  trapped 
and  fettered  and  manacled  for  life." 

"  I  can't  go  outside  of  my  job." 

"  When  the  truth  is  known,  and  it  must  be  known, 
the  effect  with  the  public  will  be  hardening  and  de 
praving  beyond  that  of  any  bad  life  openly  lived. 
It  will  breed  a  spirit  of  defiant  cynicism,  and  put  a 
premium  on  hypocrisy.  It  will  be  inconceivably 
debauching  and  corrupting.  Think  it  over,  Lang- 
brith!" 

"  I  sha'n't  go  outside  of  my  job." 

The  words  came  with  an  unexcited  dryness  which 
convinced  Anther  of  their  finality,  and  kept  him 
from  saying  more.  But  Langbrith  followed  him  to 
the  door  with  words  more  forbidding  still. 

"  I  don't  owe  that  young  man  anything ;  let  him 
make  a  fool  of  himself  any  shape  he  wants  to.  And 
I  don't  owe  this  community  anything;  it  may  rot 
for  all  me.  And  I  don't  owe  you  anything;  you 
mind  your  own  business!  I  don't  want  you  both 
ering  round  here  any  more." 

Anther  made  him  no  answer.  He  did  not  blame 
him  greatly.  He  knew  John  Langbrith  to  be  as 
clean  a  man  as  his  brother  had  been  foul;  but  he 
.knew  that  it  was  not  in  the  measure  of  his  narrow 
nature  to  do  what  he  had  required  of  him.  His 
job  was  the  measure  of  him,  and  Anther  owned  to 
himself  that  John  Langbrith  could  be  safe  only  in 
keeping  to  that. 

193 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

He  was  lifting  his  hitching-weight  into  the  buggy 
when  he  felt  a  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  recognized 
in  its  touch  the  heavy  mental  method  of  Judge  Gar- 
ley.  "  Been  asking  brother  John  for  help  ?"  the  judge 
conjectured. 

With  the  weight  dangling  by  its  strap,  Anther 
said,  "Yes,  I  have." 

"Well,  you  didn't  get  it,  I  presume.  Brother 
John  likes  the  safe  side,  which  happens  in  this  case 
to  be  the  inside.  I  have  been  considering  the  mat 
ter  you  laid  before  me  the  other  day,  and  my  ad 
vice  is  to  drop  it." 

"I  sha'n't  drop  it!"  Anther  answered,  sharply. 

The  judge  did  not  mind  his  wilfulness.  "At  this 
late  day,  nothing  can  be  done — nothing  but  mis 
chief  can  be  done — by  drawing  the  frailties  of  our 
departed  brother  from  their  dread  abode." 

"That's  what  you  said." 

"Well,  that  merely  proves  that  I  saw  it  in  the 
right  light  at  first,  before  taking  time  to  reflect  upon 
it.  It  increases  my  respect  for  myself  without 
diminishing  my  regard  for  you,  my  dear  friend. 
You  can  accomplish  nothing  whatever  by  the  course 
you  propose  to  pursue.  An  exposure  would  come 
from  you  with  a  peculiarly  bad  grace;  it  is  hardly 
necessary  for  me  to  say  why ;  and  it  would  only  con 
vince  the  young  man  that  you  were  his  father's 
enemy.  You  could  not  count  upon  his  mother's 
corroboration  in  such  an  event." 

"  I  could  count  upon  her  truth,  in  any  event." 

The  judge  slowly  shook  his  large  head.  "  Not  if 
she  is  the  good  woman  I  take  her  to  be."  Anther 

194 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

nervelessly  dropped  the  hitching  -  weight,  and  it 
fell  so  near  the  judge's  foot  that  he  looked  down  at 
it,  though  he  did  not  move.  "My  dear  friend,  you 
would  stand  unaided  and  alone,  and  the  outraged 
sentiment  of  the  community  would  be  against  you. 
The  sentimentality  of  the  community  would  over 
whelm  you.  Your  exposure  of  the  boy's  father 
would  be  attributed  to  the  worst  motive,  in  the 
absence  of  any,  and  the  tide  of  pity  for  him  would 
bear  you  down." 

"Look  here,  Judge  Garley,"  Anther  said,  "would 
you  deliver  the  dedication  address,  if  you  were  asked, 
knowing  what  you  do?" 

"There  will  be  time  to  consider  that  point  when 
I  have  been  asked.  I  may  say  in  general  terms 
that  I  would  refuse  to  do  nothing  that  I  was  re 
quired  by  my  sense  of  public  duty  to  do." 

"It's  a  pity  you  went  out  of  politics,"  Anther 
said,  dryly.  He  got  a  new  grip  of  his  anchor-strap, 
and  lifted  the  weight  into  his  buggy.  Then  he 
lifted  himself  in. 

But  the  judge  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  the  frame 
of  the  lowered  top,  and  questioned  with  an  anxious 
smile:  "Anther,  I  hope  you  are  not  about  to  do 
anything  precipitate?" 

Anther  braced  himself  for  an  angry  reply,  and 
then  fell  back  against  the  seat.  "Oh,  precipitate! 
I  don't  know  that  I'm  going  to  do  anything  at  all." 

"Well,  that's  right,"  the  judge  said,  and  let  him 
drive  away. 


XXII 

THE  twenty-ninth  of  June  was  fixed  for  the  dedi 
cation  of  the  tablet,  and  the  time  that  passed  be 
fore  that  date  seemed  by  no  means  too  long  for  the 
work  of  preparation.  The  young  sculptor,  under 
the  inspiration  of  Langbrith's  frequent  visits,  work 
ed  with  such  ardor  that  he  finished  the  bas-relief 
early  enough  to  send  the  model  to  Chicopee,  and 
have  it  cast  in  the  bronze  which  alone  satisfied 
Langbrith's  sense  of  the  sincerity  essential  in  the 
tribute  he  was  paying  to  his  father's  memory;  and 
Falk  owned  that  the  sculptor  had  done  his  work 
well.  He  had  done  it  with  a  touch  that  suggested 
the  most  modern  sculpture,  and  yet  preserved  a 
sort  of  allegiance  to  the  stern  Puritan  nature  of  the 
subject.  Royal  Langbrith  was  there  not  only  in 
the  life,  but  in  what  his  son  felt  to  be  that  high 
personal  character  proper  to  him.  Here  was  a  man, 
not  of  the  immediate  moment,  but  of  that  hour  of 
the  later  eighteen-sixties  which  created  the  imme 
diate  moment;  the  hour  of  the  Republic's  supreme 
consciousness,  when  all  the  American  forces,  re 
deemed  from  their  employment  in  the  waste  of  war, 
were  given  to  enterprises  which  have  since  enriched 
us,  and,  under  the  direction  of  such  captains  of  in 
dustry  as  Langbrith's  father,  have  pressed  forward 

196 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

to  the  commercial  conquest  of  the  world.  The  face, 
which  the  sculptor  had  imagined  from  the  son's 
face  more  than  from  the  likenesses  supplied  him, 
wore  not  the  old-fashioned  Websterian  frown  of  the 
ante-bellum  Americans,  when  there  was  no  great 
ness  but  political  greatness  in  the  popular  ideal,  but 
had  almost  an  eager  smile,  full  of  business  prompt 
ness,  and  yet  with  refined  intelligence,  a  sagacity 
instantly  self -helpful,  but  ultimately  not  unkindly. 
The  son's  heart  glowed  within  him  as  he  looked  at 
it,  and  he  offered  it  the  ancestor-worship  of  a  man 
proud  of  his  race,  of  a  dreamer  idealizing  the  future 
from  the  past.  He  wished  Hope  could  see  it  with 
him,  and  the  wish  reddened  him  with  a  conscious 
blush. 

He  wrote  home  to  his  mother,  declaring  his  en 
tire  satisfaction  with  the  work,  and  predicting  her 
own;  and  he  betrayed  his  impatience  for  the  event 
which  should  appeal  with  that  sculptured  face  to 
the  gratitude  of  the  community  at  Saxmills.  Dur 
ing  his  childhood  and  boyhood,  when  he  had  looked 
out  upon  the  place  always  as  through  the  windows 
of  his  father's  house,  with  a  sense  of  being  in  it  but 
not  of  it,  he  had  nourished  the  arrogant,  yet  affec 
tionate,  longing  to  dominate  it  by  winning  its  kind 
ness  for  himself  and  his  name.  His  impassioned  rev 
eries  abounded  in  dramas  of  his  acceptance  by  the 
matter-of-fact  little  Yankee  town,  in  a  sort  of  sei 
gniorial  supremacy,  which  should  be  its  voluntary 
acknowledgment  of  what  the  Langbriths  had  done 
for  it;  and  during  the  absences  of  his  college  years 
he  had  not  wholly  lost  this  ambition.  His  tempera- 

197 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

ment  had  kept  him  from  great  knowledge  of  the 
world,  and  such  knowledge  as  he  had  grown  into 
had  given  his  boyish  fancies  practical  shape  rather 
than  destroyed  them.  He  might  be  a  disagreeable 
fool,  as  he  often  approved  himself  to  his  acquaint 
ance,  but  he  was  not  finally  an  ignoble  fool. 

At  the  bottom  of  Langbrith's  heart  still  rankled 
the  obscure  resentment  for  Dr.  Anther's  obscure  in 
difference  to  his  scheme  that  he  had  instantly  felt 
when  he  first  spoke  of  the  scheme  before  the  village 
magnates  in  his  mother's  house.  The  bruise  of  that 
obstruction  against  which  he  had  so  unexpectedly 
struck  remained,  and  nothing  could  assuage  the 
hurt  but  Anther's  conviction  of  wrong  and  his  con 
fession  of  it.  He  wondered  at  times  if  his  mother 
had  ever  spoken  of  the  matter  to  Anther.  He  had 
peremptorily  forbidden  her  to  do  so,  in  the  first  let 
ter  he  wrote  home  afterwards,  but  he  had  hoped  she 
would.  Yet  no  word  came  from  her  concerning  it, 
and  he  could  only  suppose  that  she  had  too  faith 
fully  obeyed  him.  At  times,  he  questioned  his  own 
impressions  of  the  fact,  and  doubted  whether  it  hap 
pened,  with  the  significance  which  his  veneration 
for  his  father  and  his  affection  for  Dr.  Anther  both 
gave  it;  and  again  he  could  not  rid  himself  of  the 
belief  that  it  had  happened  in  the  form  and  mean 
ing  which  it  first  seemed  to  have. 

Before  it  happened  he  had  imagined  asking  An 
ther,  as  foremost  of  the  Saxmills  men  who  had 
known  his  father,  to  deliver  the  dedicatory  address ; 
but,  with  this  bruise,  this  doubt,  in  his  mind,  it  was 
impossible  to  do  that;  and  he  felt  himself  less  able 

198 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

to  demand  the  explanation  from  Anther  which  he 
sometimes  trembled  upon  the  point  of  asking  than 
to  turn  to  some  one  else  for  the  address.  He  would 
have  preferred  Anther  to  all  others,  even  if  Anther 
had  not  been  his  father's  old  friend;  for  the  doctor 
had  his  repute  as  a  speaker  of  simple  effectiveness; 
his  oration  at  the  celebration  of  the  first  Decoration 
Day  after  the  great  war  was  remembered  still  in 
Saxmills  with  the  exaggerated  admiration  which 
history  compels  when  it  becomes  tradition.  It 
seemed  to  Langbrith  that  no  one  could  do  such 
justice  to  the  quiet,  almost  disdainful  virtues  of  his 
father  as  the  quiet,  almost  disdainful  powers  of 
his  father's  friend.  But  now  he  had  to  devolve  for 
the  office  of  orator  upon  Judge  Garley,  a  speaker  of 
most  respectable  gifts,  but  pompous  and  ponder 
ous,  and  of  a  personal  ignorance  of  the  man  to  be 
commemorated  which,  in  Langbrith's  estimation,  all 
but  disqualified  him.  The  sweet  in  the  bitter  was 
the  hope  that  Anther  might  feel  the  slight  of  be 
ing  passed  over,  and  be  duly  humiliated;  but  this 
did  not  so  much  console  Langbrith  as  it  might 
if  he  had  not  been  hurt  in  his  love  as  well  as  his 
pride. 

The  judge  met  the  doctor  driving  through  the 
town  the  day  after  he  had  Langbrith's  letter  re 
questing  him  to  make  the  address,  and  he  overcame 
a  certain  embarrassment  he  had  in  telling  his  old 
friend  of  it. 

"I  congratulate  you,"  the  doctor  said,  with  iron 
ical  dryness;  but  he  did  not  ask  the  judge  if  he  had 
consented. 

199 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I  do  not  know,"  the  judge  said,  " whether  you 
will  approve  of  my  accepting  the  invitation." 

"Oh,  approve!"  the  doctor  said,  with  depreca 
tion  which  was  also  ironical. 

But  the  judge  showed  no  resentment.  "  I  didn't 
think  it  was  fair  to  bother  you  with  the  matter,  or 
else  I  should  have  come  to  speak  with  you  before 
writing.  But  I  did  not  see  how  I  could  decline, 
and  I  believe  you  will  be  satisfied  with  the  manner 
in  which  I  shall  treat  the  subject." 

Anther,  if  he  was  too  much  vexed  to  try  penetrat 
ing  the  reserve  which  the  judge's  words  invited  him 
to  explore,  felt  also  that  he  had  no  right  to  take 
any  tone  of  censure  with  him.  He  said,  "  You 
couldn't  refuse  without  wounding  the  boy's  feel 
ings." 

"  That  was  what  I  felt,"  the  judge  answered,  with 
relief.  "  I  might  have  pleaded  an  excuse  of  some 
kind,  such  as  intended  absence  from  the  place,  but 
I  did  not  like  to  do  so,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  I 
shall  be  detained  here  by  some  business  that  is  com 
ing  up  at  the  time.  He  asked  for  an  early  answer, 
so  that  he  might  get  ready  some  biographical  ma 
terial  he  wishes  to  supply  me  with." 

There  was  a  twinkle  in  the  judge's  legal  eye,  and 
a  smile  at  the  corner  of  his  legal  mouth,  and  he  re 
sponded  with  a  laugh  to  the  doctor's  remark:  "In 
addition  to  what  I  have  given  you?" 

"Yes;  I  need  all  that  I  can  get  on  account  of 
that!"  The  judge  roared  at  his  own  fun,  and  An 
ther  drove  slowly  away  at  the  jog-trot  which  was 
his  horse's  habitual  gait  when  they  were  both  ab- 

200 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

sorbed  in  thought.  Their  heads  hung  down  with 
the  same  droop,  and  the  horse  looked  as  if  he  might 
be  revolving  the  same  distasteful  thought  as  the 
doctor,  with  the  same  sense  of  helplessness. 

Within  the  week  that  followed  Anther  was  stopped 
at  different  times  in  his  progresses  through  the 
main  street  of  Saxmills  by  different  leading  citizens, 
who  invited  him  to  consult  with  them  upon  points 
of  the  common  interest.  James  Langbrith  seemed 
not  to  have  rested,  after  getting  Judge  Garley's 
reply,  before  addressing  himself  to  the  selectmen, 
the  high-school  principal,  and  the  Sunday-school 
superintendent,  as  well  as  the  chief  officers  of  the 
Sons  of  Pythias  and  the  Saxmills  Cadets,  inviting 
their  co-operation  in  the  ceremony  which  he  had  so 
much  at  heart.  Each  of  these  dignitaries  now  ad 
dressed  himself  to  Dr.  Anther,  in  his  succession,  with 
the  confident  belief  that  Dr.  Anther,  as  the  oldest 
friend  of  Royal  Langbrith  in  the  community,  and 
as  the  close  friend  of  his  son  and  widow,  would  be 
most  concerned  in  the  affair,  and  would  perhaps  have 
some  inside  authority  and  information  to  impart. 
He  had  necessarily  to  disappoint  their  hopes,  but 
he  found  himself  putting  on  more  and  more  the  air 
of  at  least  civic  sympathy,  which  they  seemed  to 
demand  of  him.  He  could  not,  indeed,  show  them 
his  real  mind  without  awakening  a  suspicion  he  was 
far  from  wishing  to  rouse,  without  starting  gossip 
that  would  grow  into  scandal,  and  involve  the  Lang- 
briths  and  himself  in  mischievous  conjecture.  He 
carried  his  compliance  with  their  obvious  expecta 
tion  to  a  point  where  it  became  almost  intolerably 

201 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

irksome,  without  seeing  the  point  at  which  he  could 
refuse  compliance.  When  it  came  to  Mrs.  Enderby's 
calling  gayly  to  him  from  the  sidewalk,  a.nd  halting 
him,  like  the  rest,  to  announce  that  the  rector  had 
just  had  a  letter  from  young  Mr.  Langbrith  asking 
him  to  take  part  in  the  dedicatory  ceremonies,  An 
ther's  soul  rose  in  insurrection.  "  But  you  knew  he 
had  written,  I  suppose/'  the  lady  said. 

"No,  I  certainly  didn't,"  he  answered,  with  a 
sharpness  which  suggested  to  her  the  possibility 
that  the  doctor  resented  the  young  man's  not  con 
sulting  so  old  and  so  near  a  friend,  but  suggested  it 
not  so  forcibly  as  to  withhold  her  from  saying : 

"Yes,  he  has  asked  Dr.  Enderby  and  Father 
Cody,  and  Mr.  Alway  of  the  'orthodox'  church  "- 
she  said  "  orthodox  "  with  the  effect  of  humoring  local 
usage,  but  also  of  putting  the  word  between  quo 
tation  marks — "all  to  take  part.  I  believe  Father 
Cody  is  to  ask  the  blessing,  and  Mr.  Alway  is  to 
make  the  opening  prayer.  Mr.  Langbrith  has  asked 
my  husband  to  say  something  from  the  altruistic 
stand -point,  as  it  bears  upon  what  his  father  did  for 
labor  in  his  time  by  profit-sharing,  and,  incidentally, 
if  he  pleases,  to  draw  any  lessons  as  to  character- 
building  from  the  example  of  his  personality." 

Mrs.  Enderby  ceased  obviously  reporting  Lang- 
brith's  diction,  and  continued:  "Of  course,  he  is 
rather  vague  about  what  he  really  does  want,  but 
Dr.  Enderby  found  his  wish,  so  far  as  he  imagined 
it,  rather  suggestive,  and  he  said  at  once  that  he 
would  like  to  talk  with  you  about  it.  When  could 
he  see  you,  at  your  entire  leisure?"  she  could  not 

202 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

help  pushing  officiously  *on,  though  she  had  no 
authority  from  her  husband  to  ask  the  question. 
Anther  did  not  know  what  to  say,  between  his 
ire  and  his  embarrassment.  In  his  hesitation  she 
added,  "  I  know  how  difficult  it  will  be  for  you  to 
fix  a  time,  but  I  knew  how  interested  you  would  be." 

"Thank  you.  I'm  afraid  I  should  be  very  little 
use,"  Anther  began,  but  she  broke  in  upon  him,  to 
make  reparation  for  James  Langbrith's  strange 
thoughtlessness,  and  to  soothe  the  doctor's  wound 
ed  pride: 

"I'm  sure  Mr.  Langbrith  will  write  you  about  it. 
I'm  surprised —  He  probably  knows  how  pressed 
you  are,  and  wanted  to  save  you  all  the  trouble 
with  details  that  he  could.  I  rather  like  his  going 
forward,  and  doing  it  all  himself,  don't  you?  It 
shows  such  spirit,  and  such  a  pride  in  keeping  it  in 
his  own  hands!" 

"Yes,  yes,"  Anther  said. 

"But,  of  course,  you  don't  have  to  wait  for  a 
direct  application  from  him." 

"No." 

"Why!"  she  started  in  self  -  surprise.  "Why 
shouldn't  you  stop  in  any  evening,  and  have  tea 
with  us,  and  talk  the  matter  over  with  Dr.  Enderby, 
then?  I  should  so  like  to  hear  you  two  discussing 
the  civic  and  social  significance  of  such  a  man  as 
Royal  Langbrith,  and  getting  at  the  psychology  of 
him.  You  will  come,  won't  you?  Won't  that  be 
the  easiest  for  you?  Will  you  come,  say,  to-mor 
row  night?" 

"  Not  to-morrow  night.  I  can't  fix  the  time  just 
203 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

now.     But  I  will  see.     Will  you  excuse  my  hurry 
ing  off  to  a  patient— 

"  Why,  of  course!  How  thoughtless  of  me!  But 
any  night  will  do,  doctor,  so  that  it's  soon.  Good 
bye!  good-bye!" 

She  turned  from  the  gate  where  she  had  stopped 
the  doctor,  and  went  indoors  to  her  husband. 

"  I  think  it's  strangely  thoughtless  of  James  Lang- 
brith  not  to  have  written  to  Dr.  Anther  about  the 
measures  he's  been  taking.  The  doctor  feels  it,  I 
know,  but  he's  so  large-minded  that  he'll  not  let  it 
interfere.  He's  coming  here  some  evening  to  talk 
Royal  Langbrith's  personality  over  with  you." 

"Where  have  you  seen  him?" 

"At  the  gate,  just  now.  But  I  didn't  call  you, 
because  I  didn't  want  to  interrupt  you.  I've  told 
him  all  about  it,  and  he's  coming  the  first  evening 
he  can.  I  told  him  any  evening  would  do.  I  knew 
you'd  want  me  to.  And  all  I  shall  ask  is  to  sit  by 
and  hear  you  two  analyze  Royal  Langbrith.  With 
the  scientific  stand-point  which  Doctor  Anther  can 
supply,  and  the  philosophic  and  religious  view  which 
you  can  give,  I  think  it  will  be  one  of  the  most  in 
tensely  interesting  things  that  ever  was.  Don't  you?" 

"  I  hope  you'll  find  it  so,  my  dear.  But,  really, 
young  Langbrith's  oversight  seems  an  extraordi 
nary—" 

"Yes,  doesn't  it!  I  hardly  know  how  to  account 
for  it,  but  if  the  doctor  can  overlook  it,  we  can,  and 
he's  evidently  disposed  to  overlook  it.  At  any  rate, 
I  shall  'keep  right  round  after  him,'  as  the  country 
people  say,  till  he  redeems  his  promise." 

204 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

She  so  far  redeemed  her  own  promise  as  to  halt 
Anther,  whenever  she  could  reach  him,  by  hailing 
him  with  her  voice,  and,  when  she  could  not,  by 
waving  him  to  a  stand  with  her  fluttered  handker 
chief.  But  it  was  not  till  she  had  almost  lost  faith 
in  his  large-mindedness,  and  had  many  times  sided 
with  him  and  against  him  in  his  imaginable  resent 
ment  of  young  Langbrith's  neglect;  it  was  not  till 
the  eve  of  the  day  fixed  for  the  dedication  ceremo 
nies  that  Anther  appeared  at  the  rectory.  He  came 
too  late  for  tea ;  and,  when  he  did  come,  he  did  not 
invite  Mrs.  Enderby's  presence  at  the  psychological 
analysis  of  Royal  Langbrith's  personality,  which  he 
did  not  enter  upon  till  she  no  longer  had  the  least 
excuse  for  not  leaving  him  to  her  husband. 


XXIII 

AFTER  Mrs.  Enderby  went  out  Dr.  Anther  re 
mained  in  a  silence  which  the  rector  could  not  quite 
bring  himself  to  break.  He  thought  that  his  visitor 
looked  fagged,  and  that  he  looked  even  more  sad 
than  fagged.  He  would  have  liked  to  ask  Anther 
about  Hawberk,  in  the  way  of  a  beginning,  but 
somehow  he  did  not,  though  he  had  heard  that 
Hawberk  was  holding  up  a  little,  and  he  was  inter 
ested  in  the  experiment  of  his  physician,  as  it  was 
known  to  any  one  who  cared  to  listen  to  Hawberk's 
sanguine  prophecies  of  the  outcome. 

Mrs.  Enderby,  lingering  honorably  out  of  intel 
ligible  eavesdropping,  but  not  out  of  ear-shot,  was 
disinterestedly  impatient  of  the  interval  before 
Anther  spoke. 

"What  do  you  think,"  he  began,  and  at  the 
sound  of  his  voice  she  fled  from  temptation,  "of 
evil  done  in  the  past,  and  so  effectually  covered  up, 
except  from  two  or  three  people,  that  for  the  public 
generally  it  never  existed:  should  you  think  it  the 
duty  of  the  two  or  three,  or  any  one  of  them,  to 
make  it  known?" 

"I'm  not  quite  sure  that  I  follow  you,"  said  the 
rector,  but  confessing  his  interest  by  his  look  of 
prompt  animation.  He  was  seeking,  as  he  professed, 

206 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

a  stronger  light  upon  it,  but  he  could  not  feel  that 
Anther  cast  this  light  upon  it  by  what  he  said  next. 

"  Take  the  case  of ,"  the  doctor  resumed,  and 

he  named  a  famous  case  which  once  agonized  the 
public  with  a  curiosity  still  unsatisfied.  "  He  must 
have  known,  and  a  few  others  must  have  known  quite 
as  well,  whether  he  was  guilty  or  innocent  in  that 
business.  Do  you  believe  it  would  have  been  to 
the  advantage  of  religion  or  morals  to  have  had  the 
fact  generally  known ;  or  was  it  just  as  well  to  have 
had  it  hushed  up  forever,  as  it  apparently  was?" 

"  I  don't  see  what  advantage  the  common  knowl 
edge  of  it  would  have  been,"  the  rector  said,  still 
feeling  his  way  rather  blindly.  "  I  can't  see  what 
use  it  would  have  been  as  concerns  this  world,  to 
have  had  the  fact  known.  If  the  fact  would  bene 
fit  some  one,  save  some  one  from  unjust  suspicion, 
relieve  some  burdened  spirit,  yes ;  but  otherwise  not, 
I  should  say." 

"You  think  the  truth  itself,  merely  as  truth,  has 
no  claim  upon  our  recognition?" 

"What  is  truth?" 

"Ah,  that's  what  jesting  Pilate  asked!" 

"Isn't  the  truth,"  the  rector  pursued,  "that  ab 
solute  entirety  of  fact  which  includes  not  only  every 
circumstance,  but  also  every  extenuation  in  motive 
and  temperament?" 

"Well?" 

"That  sort  of  truth  can  never  be  made  known  in 
this  world,  and  the  brute  fact  doesn't  express  it." 

"You  remand  it  to  the  Last  Day?" 

"I  leave  it  to  God.  The  Searcher  of  hearts  can 
207 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

alone  find  it  out,  and  judge  it.  If  we  press  for 
judgment  here,  we  are  in  danger  of  becoming  exe 
cutioners.  But  I  am  never  able  to  deal  with  ab 
stractions,  such  as  this  case  has  become.  You  can't 
lay  down  any  rule  that  will  fit  an  abstraction.  I 
don't  like  to  lay  down  any  rule  at  all,  except  such 
as  I  find  given  us.  If  there  were  any  particular 
case — any  concrete  instance — " 

4 'There  is  a  particular  case,"  the  doctor  said,  "a 
concrete  instance,  but  I'm  afraid  that  the  lapse  of 
time  has  rendered  it  as  much  an  abstraction  as  that 
other  case — in  fact,  has  outlawed  it." 

The  rector  could  only  answer  at  first,  "I  should 
like  to  hear  anything  you  have  to  tell  me."  But 
he  added,  "Why  are  we  fencing?" 

"Are  we  fencing?  I  didn't  mean  it,"  the  doctor 
said,  with  his  fagged  look  and  his  sad  look  possessing 
the  rector  again  with  compassion.  "I'll  lower  my 
point,  anyway.  I'll  go  back  to  the  beginning.  If 
a  man  had  so  successfully  lived  what  they  call  a 
double  life  that  he  had  kept  each  life  largely  a 
secret  from  the  other,  and  kept  everybody  but  those 
he  had  most  wronged  altogether  out  of  the  secret, 
and  there  were  but  one  impartial  witness  of  the 
facts,  would  it  become  the  duty  of  that  witness  to 
make  the  facts  known  when  the  man  was  dead  and 
the  evil  he  did  had  not  apparently  lived  after  him  ?" 

"I  think  you'll  have  to  be  a  little  more  specific." 

"  Have  we  no  such  a  thing  as  a  duty  to  justice  ? 
Is  there  no  such  thing  as  justice?" 

The  rector  looked  grave,  "  I  have  never  seen  any 
instance  of  justice  in  the  world.  I  have  seen  many 

208 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

instances  of  mercy.  I  should  say  we  have  a  duty 
to  mercy.  We  are  warned  more  than  once  to  make 
sure  first  of  our  own  sinlessness  before  we  offer  to 
judge  the  sins  of  others." 

"  But  imagine  that  the  guilt  of  the  man  I  am  im 
agining  had  imposed  itself  upon  the  public  for  vir 
tue,  and  was  apparently  left  to  the  Last  Judgment, 
as  so  many  things — most  things,  in  fact,  as  I  agree 
with  you — seem  left,  and  time  had  gone  on  till  it  be 
came,  by  this  chance  and  by  that,  the  question  of 
recognizing  a  cruel  miscreant  as  a  public  benefactor, 
and  holding  him  up  as  an  example  to  the  young, 
and  celebrating  some  twopenny  munificence  of  his 
as  an  act  of  characteristic  virtue,  of  habitual  great 
ness  and  goodness — 

The  rector  rose,  and  his  face  whitened,  as  the 
doctor's  had  reddened  with  the  rush  of  feeling  into 
his  voice.  "Are  you  talking  to  me  of  Royal  Lang- 
brith?"  he  asked. 

"  I  am  talking  to  you  of  Royal  Langbrith,"  Anther 
replied.  "And  ever  since  I  heard  that  you  had 
been  asked  to  take  part  in  this  preposterous  busi 
ness  I  have  been  talking  to  you  about  Royal  Lang 
brith.  Not  to  your  knowledge,  of  course,  but  in 
those  one-sided  colloquies  which,  I  dare  say,  you 
hold  as  well  as  I  when  you  are  working  up  to  face 
some  one  whom  they  concern.  When  Mrs.  Enderby 
first  told  me  you  had  been  invited  by  Langbrith 's  son 
to  join  in  honoring  his  father's  abominable  memory, 
my  impulse  was  to  come  at  once  and  tell  you  what 
the  man  had  really  been.  But  when  that  impulse 
passed,  I  said  to  myself  that  I  would  think  it  over; 

209 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

and  I  have  thought  it  over  and  thought  it  over,  but 
never  with  so  much  justification  in  paltering  with 
my  duty  as  you  have  given  me  by  the  things  you 
have  just  said.  It  seemed  to  me,  on  one  side,  that  it 
was  an  outrage  upon  your  own  purity  and  upright 
ness  to  let  you  go  on  and  unwittingly  praise  that 
infamous  scoundrel.  It  seemed  an  atrocious  in 
vasion  of  your  rights,  an  abuse  of  your  ignorance  as 
well  as  an  insult  to  your  office.  Then,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  asked  myself  what  harm  would  be  done  if  I 
let  you  go  on,  compared  with  the  harm  I  should  do 
if  I  stopped  you — the  pain  I  should  needlessly  in 
flict;  for  the  truth  would  now  probably  never  come 
out,  and  in  the  interest  of  public  morals  had  much 
better  remain  hidden.  I  recognized  this  long  ago. 
I  saw  that  the  time  for  a  public  exposure  of  the 
man's  evil  had  apparently  passed;  that  it  had  par 
alyzed  those  who  had  left  it  hidden;  but  when  I 
heard  that  you  had  been  asked  to  eulogize  such  a 
miscreant  in  public,  I  felt  a  new  responsibility.  I 
realized  that  if  I  let  you  do  so,  I  should  be  guilty 
towards  you ;  yet,  if  I  spoke,  I  should  be  putting  my 
burden  upon  you,  and  compelling  you  to  the  sophisti 
cations  with  which  I  stifled  my  own  conscience.  You 
could  not  then  stand  up  and  declare  the  truth  before 
the  people ;  you  could  only  reveal  it  to  that  miser 
able  boy ;  or,  if  you  had  not  the  heart  for  that,  you 
must  stultify  yourself  and  wound  him  with  lying 
excuses.  I  paltered  with  my  duty,  and  I  have  come 
at  the  eleventh  hour  to  do  what  I  ought  to  have 
done  at  once  or  never  done  at  all. 

Anther  told  his  story  with  a  fulness  which  he 

2IO 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  wanted  even  in  telling  it  to  Judge  Garley.  In 
the  sympathy  which  he  felt  Enderby  was  giving 
him,  with  that  instant  self-forgetfulness  natural  to 
the  born  priest,  there  was  invitation  which  the  legal 
mind  could  not  give  him,  with  its  concurrent  criti 
cism  of  his  facts  and  motives.  He  was  dealing  now 
with  a  man  who  could  appropriate  his  facts  and 
realize  his  motives  to  their  remotest  intimations 
and  finest  significances.  Science  and  religion  met 
in  the  study  of  the  life  laid  bare  between  them.  At 
any  detail  from  which  Anther  faltered,  Enderby 
prompted  him,  and,  in  the  end,  nothing  was  left  un 
told. 

"  Besides  Hawberk  and  Mrs.  Langbrith  and  your 
self,  is  there  any  one  knowing  to  the  facts?" 

"John  Langbrith;  but  how  intimately  he  knows 
them  I  can't  say.  We  have  never  exchanged  con 
fidences.  He  was  on  the  train  with  his  brother  when 
Royal  Langbrith  died.  Didn't  I  say?  Yes  —  he 
died  in  the  smoking-car  coming  up  from  Boston, 
but  so  suddenly,  so  secretly,  that  John  Langbrith 
did  not  notice  anything  till  he  put  his  hand  on  the 
dead  man's  shoulder  to  arouse  him  from  his  nap 
when  they  reached  Saxmills.  He  had  died  as  se 
cretly  as  he  had  lived." 

"What  has  become  of  the  woman?" 

"Who  ever  knows  what  becomes  of  the  woman? 
Perhaps,  in  this  case,  John  Langbrith  does.  I  ought 
to  tell  you,"  Anther  added,  "that  I  have  put  the 
case  to  Judge  Garley." 

"How  long  ago?" 

"Several  weeks — a  month." 
211 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  And  knowing  the  truth,  he  let  me  accept  a  part 
in  this  commemoration!" 

"  You  might  say  the  same  of  me.'7 

"  No,  I  couldn't  say  the  same  of  you.  I  can  un 
derstand  the  stress  there  has  been  upon  you,  and 
your  reluctance — your  fear  of  being  misunderstood 
— misconstrued.  But  if  Judge  Garley  had  given 
me  a  hint—  No,  I  don't  blame  him  either!  I 
mustn't  be  cowardly." 

The  rector  sat  with  his  elbow  on  the  arm  of  his 
chair,  and  his  head  propped  on  his  hand,  thinking. 
What  he  found  first  to  say,  with  a  sigh  and  a  for 
lorn  smile,  was,  "  It's  part  of  my  cowardice  that  I 
could  wish  you  hadn't  told  me." 

"  I  was  obliged  to  do  it.  In  this,  at  least,  I  have 
had  no  selfish  motive." 

"Of  course  not.  But  I  must  go  on  all  the  same, 
you  see."  Anther  said  nothing,  and  Enderby  ask 
ed,  "The  boy  is  without  the  least  suspicion,  the 
slightest  surmise?" 

"Absolutely.  He  was  not  purposely  kept  so. 
But  the  time  for  telling  him  never  seemed  to  come. 
Who  could  tell  him?" 

"It  may  never  come,"  the  rector  mused  aloud, 
and  he  said  to  Anther,  "  It  hasn't  come  now." 

They  were  silent  together,  but  the  doctor  spoke 
first:  "It  did  cross  my  mind  that  you  might  feel 
authorized  to — " 

"No,"  the  rector  stopped  him;  "we  must  leave  it 
all  to  God  now,  as  it  has  been  left  hitherto.  He  will 
know  when  the  son  can  best  bear  his  father's  shame. 
He  will  know  how  to  do  justice,  and  when,  on  the 

212 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

memory  of  the  dead ;  but  until  now,  in  mercy  to  the 
living,  He  has  forborne.  The  circumstances  will  ar 
range  themselves;  the  atoms  will  fall  into  the  order 
of  the  divine  scheme.  We  must  keep  our  hands  off. 
De  mortuis — you  know  the  saying;  there  is  as  much 
wisdom  as  kindness  in  it.  There  is  a  feeling — it  is 
mostly  a  vengeful  feeling,  I  don't  know  why — that 
men's  evil  deeds  must  not  be  suffered  to  lurk  in  the 
dark;  but  perhaps  they  should,  for  this  life.  What 
would  it  avail  to  have  them  dragged  into  the  light  ? 
Everything  shall  be  made  known,  but  perhaps  not 
on  earth.  Whoever  wished  to  hasten  the  knowl 
edge  of  hidden  evil,  here  and  now,  might  well  be 
ware  of  forcing  God's  purposes,  as  we  understand  or 
misunderstand  them.  It  could  not  help  this  com 
munity  to  know  the  truth  about  that  wretched  man. 
It  would  only  render  it  cynical  and  deprave  it.  But 
I  am  not  concerned  about  the  son,  primarily,  I  am 
afraid;  or  about  our  fellow -citizens.  I  have  the 
selfish  concern  of  keeping  myself  clear  from  false 
hood  in  what  I  have  to  do.  At  present,  I  don't  see 
how  I  can,  but  I  shall  try ;  and,  meantime,  between 
the  two  evils  before  me,  I  will  choose  that  which 
seems  likest  virtue." 

Anther  was  struck  with  the  similarity  in  the  con 
clusions  of  the  priest  and  those  of  the  judge,  but  he 
did  not  comment  on  it.  Enderby  himself  offered 
none  of  the  reflections  in  which  he  seemed  lost,  and 
Anther,  after  a  little  longer  stay,  in  which  nothing 
suggested  itself  as  a  solution,  took  his  leave,  without 
protest  from  the  rector.  He  carried  with  him,  ca 
priciously,  the  vision  of  the  rector's  neatness,  as  to 

213 


THE   SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  black  waistcoat,  buttoned  to  his  throat,  which 
was  without  suspicion  of  those  droppings  from  the 
rector's  full  beard  such  as  the  doctor  remembered 
noting  on  the  vestments  of  some  clergymen  less 
conscientiously  benzined  by  their  wives. 

Enderby's  wife  was  otherwise  so  conscientious 
that  she  would  not  join  him  in  his  study,  after  he 
returned  from  seeing  Anther  to  the  gate,  till  he 
called  to  her,  "  Come  here,  Alice."  Then  she  rustled 
down-stairs  and  entered  to  him  with  a  face  eager  for 
the  account  of  his  talk  with  the  doctor.  At  sight 
of  his  face,  looking  up  at  her  from  the  chair  into 
which  he  had  nervelessly  dropped,  hers  fell 

"  Dearest!"  she  said. 

"I  am  in  trouble,"  he  answered.  "I  want  you 
to  help  me." 

Though  a  woman  whose  chief  delight  was,  ordi 
narily,  in  the  expression  and  examination  of  her 
emotions,  she  now  postponed  them,  as  she  was  able 
to  do  in  great  emergencies,  and  closed  so  promptly 
and  directly  with  the  trouble  he  owned  to  her  that 
he  was  able  after  an  hour  to  say,  "  Well,  then,  I  will 
do  it." 

"It's  the  only  thing  you  could  do,  and  it's  the 
thing  you  must  do.  It's  what  suggested  itself  to 
you  at  first;  and  /  call  it  an  inspiration." 

The  notion  of  an  inspiration  was  something  left 
over  from  her  Unitarian  nurture,  which  she  would 
not  deny  herself  in  the  present  exigency.  It  had  a 
literary  rather  than  a  theological  significance,  and 
was  less  an  article  of  faith  than  of  critical  apprecia 
tion.  Then  the  rector  went  to  bed,  and,  instead  of 

214 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

harassing  his  worn-out  brain  by  vain  dramatizations 
of  the  predicament,  surprised  himself  by  falling  al 
most  immediately  asleep. 

It  was  for  Dr.  Anther  to  lie  awake  after  he  had 
driven  home  through  the  dim  Saxmills  streets, 
usually  so  quiet  at  half -past  ten,  but  to-night  only 
quiescing,  after  a  tumultuous  evening  of  last  details 
in  preparation  for  the  morrow.  His  course  lay  by 
the  open  square  on  which  the  library  faced,  and  he 
noted  that  the  platform  built  up  around  the  door 
way,  below  the  bas-relief,  for  the  invited  guests 
had  been  draped,  since  he  passed  earlier  in  the  even 
ing,  with  American  flags.  The  tablet  was  veiled  in 
white  cotton  cloth,  which,  in  its  association  with 
the  dead,  gave  Anther  the  sense  of  a  shroud,  so  that 
he  started  at  the  light,  gay  laugh  which  burst  from 
the  lips  of  a  girl  pausing  with  a  young  man  and  look 
ing  up  at  the  platform  from  the  square  below.  He 
recognized  the  voice  of  Hope  Hawberk  in  the  laugh, 
and  in  the  young  man  beside  her  he  recognized 
James  Langbrith,  and  he  imagined  her  teasing  him. 

He  smiled  to  himselt  in  the  prevision  of  his  ab 
sence  from  the  group  of  the  invited  guests  who  were 
to  occupy  that  platform  the  next  day.  The  com 
mittee  of  arrangements  had  promptly  sent  him  an 
invitation ;  and  a  second  card  had  come  later,  under 
a  cover  addressed  in  Langbrith' s  hand-writing,  as  if 
he  were  not  willing  that  Anther  should  by  any  chance 
be  passed  over.  So  far,  indeed,  Langbrith  had  sub 
dued  his  rancor  with  his  old  friend.  But  Anther 
had  determined,  from  the  first,  not  to  be  present  at 
the  dedication,  and  he  had  not  faltered  since. 

2I5 


THE    SbN    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

The  figure  of  a  woman,  imaginably  some  patient 
who  had  waited  for  him  in  vain,  slipped  from  his 
gate  and  went  down  the  obscurity  of  the  street,  in 
the  opposite  direction,  as  he  drove  up  to  Mrs.  Bur- 
well's  darkened  house.  He  put  his  horse  and  buggy 
into  the  barn,  and  then  came  round  and  let  himself 
in  at  the  front  door.  On  the  threshold  within  lay 
something  white,  which  he  felt  to  be  a  sealed  letter ; 
and,  when  he  had  turned  up  his  office  lamp,  he  found 
it  addressed  to  him,  in  a  hand  which  he  knew.  "  Dr. 
Anther,"  he  read,  "I  want  you  should  not  fail  to 
accept  James's  invitation  for  to-morrow.  He  is 
feeling  very  anxious  you  should  be  there,  though  he 
will  not  say  so.  If  you  don't  choose  to  do  it  for  his 
sake,  do  it  for  mine.  I  would  give  anything  to  have 
you. — AMELIA." 

He  turned  it  over,  as  people  turn  letters  over, 
rather  when  they  have  got  everything  out  of  them 
than  when  they  have  not,  and  he  knew  that  the 
woman  he  had  seen  coming  away  from  his  gate  was 
Mrs.  Langbrith.  Her  anxiety  must  have  been  great, 
to  bring  her  from  home  so  far  at  that  hour,  and  she 
must  have  wished  to  keep  her  writing  him  a  secret 
from  her  household,  if  she  could  not  send  the  letter. 
She  might  have  hoped  to  see  him,  and  carried  the 
letter  to  leave  in  case  she  should  not  find  him. 

"Why,"  he  asked  himself,  bitterly,  " should  we  be 
doing  things  by  stealth  ?  We  hide  our  affection,  as 
if  it  were  something  to  be  ashamed  of.  We  behave 
like  guilty  persons,  but  you  are  the  most  innocent 
of  victims,  and  I  am  to  blame  only  for  not  forcing 
you  to  right  yourself.  I  can't  stand  it,  Amelia!" 

216 


XXIV 

LANGBRITH  had  at  first  meant  to  dedicate  his 
father's  memorial  on  grand  terms.  It  had  seemed 
to  him  not  out  of  scale  with  the  merit  of  such  a  man 
to  have  the  governor  and  his  staff  in  full  uniform 
present  at  the  ceremony.  But  a  few  drops  of  ridi 
cule  sprinkled  on  the  notion  by  Falk  extinguished 
it,  after  an  angry  sputtering;  and  he  reasoned  that 
to  confine  the  civic  interest  to  Saxmills  would  be 
to  intensify  it,  and  to  appeal  still  more  strongly  to 
the  local  pride.  In  his  illumination,  he  declined 
the  offer  of  even  a  band  from  the  next  town,  when 
it  was  submitted  to  him  through  the  committee  of 
arrangements,  and  decided  to  have  no  music  but 
such  as  the  fifes  and  drums  of  the  Saxmills  cadets 
could  make  in  their  march  through  the  streets. 
This,  with  the  singing  of  the  public-school  and 
Sunday-school  children,  ranked  below  the  platform 
where  the  invited  guests  were  to  be  seated,  before 
and  after  the  unveiling  of  the  tablet,  would  be  taste 
fully  sufficient  in  Langbrith's  more  tempered  ideal 
of  the  affair. 

The  cadets  looked  very  well  as  they  paraded,  and 
the  children,  marshalled  by  their  teachers,  looked 
charming — the  larger  boys  bearing  school  banners, 
supported  by  smaller  boys  holding  the  tassels  on 

217 


THE   SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

each  side,  as  they  marched  to  the  library  and  formed 
themselves  in  the  appointed  order.  They  counted 
in  their  number  all  the  children  in  town,  except 
some  inveterate  truants  in  whom  the  Fourth-of- 
July  excitement  was  beginning  to  work,  and  who 
opened  their  celebration  at  daybreak  with  the  ex 
plosion  of  cannon-crackers.  Throughout  the  morn 
ing,  the  sound  of  their  torpedoes  broke  upon  the 
more  ceremonious  sounds  of  public  rejoicing;  and, 
when  the  procession  formed,  they  made  themselves 
its  straggling  escort,  and  followed  it  in  the  mixed 
admiration  and  derision  of  boyish  outlawry.  It  had 
been  proposed,  at  one  time,  that  the  mill  hands, 
men  and  women,  should  join  the  procession,  in  such 
gala  as  they  chose ;  but  John  Langbrith  had  passive 
ly  disfavored  the  plan,  which  had  not  found  accept 
ance  with  the  hands  themselves.  When  it  was 
brought  to  James  Langbrith's  knowledge,  he  de 
cided  against  it,  as  something  perfunctory  and  out 
of  keeping  with  the  voluntary  spirit  of  the  affair. 

Falk,  who  stayed  over  the  week  as  Langbrith's 
guest,  praised  his  decision  as  a  stroke  of  surprising 
wisdom.  He  mingled  with  the  operatives,  in  the 
rear,  where  they  formed  the  great  mass  of  the  spec 
tators,  and  was  able  to  report  to  Langbrith  a  satis 
faction  with  their  unalloyed  holiday  which  he  was 
sure  they  would  not  have  felt  in  the  procession.  He 
himself  refused  any  share  in  the  ceremonies  by  re 
fusing  a  seat  among  the  invited  guests;  and  when 
he  was  not  going  about  and  feeling  the  public  pulse 
in  Langbrith's  interest,  he  amused  himself  by  mak 
ing  the  three  young  girls  under  his  charge  laugh, 

218 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

or  try  to  keep  from  laughing,  at  his  remarks  on  the 
general  and  personal  aspects  of  the  occasion,  es 
pecially  on  the  activities  of  Langbrith,  as  host,  and 
Matthewson,  as  chief -marshal.  Susie  Johns  was  not 
concerned  in  either  of  them,  and  could  laugh  at 
both,  without  the  fond  misgiving  of  Jessamy  Cole- 
bridge  or  the  perverse  delight  of  Hope  Hawberk,  as 
Falk  made  them  note  the  majesty  of  Matthewson 
in  ushering  the  invited  guests  up  the  stairs  of  the 
platform,  and  the  urbane  hospitality  of  Langbrith 
in  receiving  them  at  the  top  and  appointing  them 
their  seats.  The  girls  laughed  so  much,  and  Falk 
kept  so  grave,  that  glances  of  reproval  for  them  and 
sympathy  for  him  were  shot  from  neighboring  eyes, 
while  the  band  brayed  on,  and  the  crowd  packed 
into  the  square  before  the  library  cheered  each 
guest  as  he  mounted  and  took  his  place. 

They  were,  first  of  all,  the  oldest  employes  of  the 
Langbrith  paper-mills,  women  as  well  as  men,  who 
were  given  the  seats  next  the  speakers;  veterans  of 
the  Civil  War  had  the  seats  behind  them;  and  then 
the  village  dignitaries,  the  selectmen,  the  high- 
school  principal  and  the  Sunday-school  superinten 
dent,  with  citizens  of  no  official  quality,  but  emi 
nent  in  business,  or  entitled  to  recognition  by  their 
age  or  social  standing.  Before  all  sat  Judge  Gar- 
ley,  Mr.  Enderby,  Father  Cody,  the  orthodox  min 
ister,  and  John  Langbrith.  At  the  last  moment, 
Matthewson  was  .seen  receiving  Dr.  Anther  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps,  and  then  Langbrith,  with  a  for 
ward  start  and  a  flush  of  surprise,  greeted  him  at 
the  top.  The  young  man's  face  was  lighted  with  a 

219 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

joyful  smile  as  he  clung  to  Anther's  hand  and 
bubbled  an  incoherent  welcome,  looking  round  to 
see  where  he  should  place  his  father's  old  friend. 
He  restrained  a  movement  of  Anther  towards  the 
rear  seats,  and  led  him  forward  and  put  him  between 
the  judge  and  the  rector,  who  made  room  for  him 
with  dumb  shows  of  courtesy.  The  band  brayed 
out  afresh,  and  the  general  applause  of  the  crowd 
rose  in  such  personal  cheers  as:  "Hurrah  for  Dr. 
Anther !"  "  Hurrah  for  Dr.  Anther !' '  Hope  took  out 
her  handkerchief  and  waved  it,  and  then  Jessamy 
and  Susie  took  out  their  handkerchiefs  and  waved 
them.  The  doctor  sat  down  abashed,  and  his  low 
ered  gaze  fell  upon  the  veiled  face  of  a  woman  sit 
ting  in  the  foremost  row  of  chairs,  placed  in  the 
little  square  before  the  library.  At  sight  of  Amelia 
Langbrith,  a  sad  smile  overspread  Anther's  reddened 
visage,  which  he  turned  at  the  slight  tumult  caused 
by  some  unexpected  event  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 
The  tumult  passed  with  the  slow  mounting  of  a  fig 
ure  to  the  platform,  and  its  momentary  hesitation 
at  the  top;  then  the  gaunt  shape  and  blotched, 
brown  visage,  with  the  deeply  sunken  eyes,  of  Hiram 
Hawberk  showed  themselves  spectrally  to  the  crowd. 
Inarticulate  cries  and  gasps  broke  from  it,  and 
shaped  themselves  in  derisions  like  "  Three  cheers 
for  Hawberk!"  " Hurrah  for  Hawberk!" 

Langbrith  turned  from  whispering  to  Judge  Gar- 
ley;  at  sight  of  Hawberk,  he  flashed  a  silencing 
glance  at  the  crowd,  with  a  scornful  lift  of  his 
young  head,  and  hurried  towards  him  with  out 
stretched  hands.  He  seized  Hawberk's  trembling 

220 


THE   SON   OF   ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

hand  as  he  had  seized  Anther's,  and  then,  placing 
it  under  his  arm,  led  him  forward.  There  was  no 
place  among  the  front  seats,  but  every  occupant  of 
them  rose  and  offered  his  place  to  Hawberk.  Lang- 
brith  waved  the  others  down,  while  he  spoke  to  his 
uncle.  Then  John  Langbrith,  chewing  the  splinter 
of  wood  on  which  he  had  been  sardonically  working 
his  jaws  from  the  first,  shook  hands  with  Hawberk, 
and  pulled  him  into  his  place,  where  he  took  An 
ther's  hand,  proffered  across  their  knees,  and  re 
mained  dimly  looking  out  over  the  people. 

"Why,  I  thought  your  father  wasn't  coming, 
Hope?"  Jessamy  Colebridge  said. 

"  I  suppose  he  changed  his  mind,"  Hope  answered, 
quietly.  But  she  dropped  her  veil  as  she  rose  with 
the  rest  at  the  uplifting  of  Father  Cody's  voice  in 
the  words  of  the  invocation. 

The  priest  had  been  chosen  for  the  opening  cere 
mony  to  satisfy  him  in  certain  scruples  with  refer 
ence  to  his  association  with  the  Protestant  clergy, 
which  the  committee  treated  with  the  large  indul 
gence  of  an  underlying  indifference  in  sectarian 
matters.  But  afterwards  their  choice  was  felt  to 
be  almost  providential.  The  dignified  form  of  his 
words,  and  the  sort  of  sacerdotal  authority  with 
which  he  pronounced  them,  struck  a  note  fortunate 
for  the  after  proceedings,  which  these  obeyed.  It 
did  not,  indeed,  form  a  law  for  the  excursive  gener 
alities  of  the  oration  which  Judge  Garley  delivered, 
but  it  tempered  him  to  perhaps  greater  simplicity 
and  directness  than  he  would  otherwise  have  had. 
He  paid  a  tribute  both  to  the  secular  and  sacred 

221 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

character  of  the  priest,  which  gathered  all  Father 
Cody's  parishioners  to  him,  and  carried  them  at 
tentively  with  him  wherever  he  strayed.  But  no 
one  followed  him  so  closely,  so  curiously,  as  Dr. 
Anther,  who  was,  as  anxiously  as  he  was  unwillingly, 
alert  to  see  what  course  the  legal  mind  would  take 
among  the  difficulties  so  evident  to  him.  It  could 
not  be  said  that  Judge  Garley  made  light  of  the  dif 
ficulties;  lightness  was  not  a  thing  imaginable  of 
him;  but  he  won  his  way  among  them  by  leaps  and 
bounds,  which,  if  ponderous,  certainly  got  him  over 
the  ground,  and  by  turns  which,  if  not  agile,  were 
undeniably  effective.  He  made  a  background  of 
the  history  of  Saxmills,  from  the  earliest  colonial 
period  down  through  the  old  French  War,  the  Rev 
olution,  the  last  war  with  Great  Britain,  and  the 
invasion  of  Mexico,  to  the  great  civil  strife  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  Union;  and  then,  in  the  middle 
distance,  he  sketched  the  rise  of  the  manufacturing 
interests  of  New  England,  with  their  share  in  the 
immense  expansion  of  industries  throughout  the 
country,  after  the  pacification  of  the  South  and  the 
establishment  of  the  great  principle  of  manhood  suf 
frage  on  the  rock  of  the  Constitution.  Such,  he 
said,  was  the  time,  such  the  place,  such  the  situation 
that  confronted  the  man  whose  far-seeing  enterprise 
had  given  Saxmills  its  unsurpassed  prosperity,  and 
whose  munificence,  in  one  of  its  many  instances, 
they  were  tardily  recognizing  to-day.  They  all 
knew  who  the  man  was ;  but  what  was  he  ? 

Anther  held  his  breath  as  he  watched  his  old 
friend  standing  before  the  impressive  canvas  he  had 

222 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

prepared,  and  wondered  what  manner  of  heroic 
effigy  he  would  paint  upon  it.  From  where  he  sat, 
beside  Hawberk,  feeling  the  tremor  of  his  limbs 
when  they  chanced  to  touch  his  own,  and  breathing 
the  narcotic  odors  that  exhaled  from  his  person,  he 
could  not  catch  the  eye  of  the  orator,  which  pre 
sented  itself  only  in  profile,  as  he  shook  his  head  in 
challenge  and  pounded  the  air  with  his  fist  in  ac 
centuation  of  his  appeal.  Except  that  he  knew  the 
judge  to  have  justified  himself  invulnerably  through 
his  professional  conscience,  he  might  have  thought 
that  he  kept  his  face  purposely  averted,  and  he 
held  his  breath  when  Garley  resumed.  "I  never 
spoke  with  the  man.  I  never  saw  him.  I  never 
heard  his  name  till  I  came  to  live  among  you  here. 
He  was  no  friend  of  mine,  not  even  my  acquaintance, 
yet  from  his  work  I  know  him."  But  when  Garley 
reached  the  end  of  his  characterization  of  Royal 
Langbrith,  Anther  laughed  in  his  heart,  with  no 
wish  to  utter  its  bitterness  to  his  old  friend,  as  he 
resoundingly  closed  with  the  words:  "Such  was 
the  man,  such  was  the  character,  such  was  the  per 
sonality  whose  counterfeit  presentment  shall  be 
revealed  to  us  this  day,  and  each  day  shall  show 
him  to  others  after  we  are  dust,  as  long  as  stone  and 
bronze  shall  endure." 

On  that  magnificent  background  the  scenic  artist 
had  really  painted  nothing ;  nothing  but  what  might 
pass  for  one  enterprising  and  successful  American 
as  well  as  another:  the  mere  conventional  outline 
of  a  face  or  a  figure  which  a  thousand  names  would 
fit  as  well  as  Royal  Langbrith' s.  He  had  carefully 

223 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

avoided  not  only  distinctive  traits,  but  he  had,  with 
purpose  evident  enough  to  Anther,  kept  a  surface 
as  impenetrable  as  it  was  shallow.  He  had  given 
this  surface  a  glare  which  dazzled  the  eye  and  dis 
tracted  the  thought  from  the  performance  to  the 
performer;  and  Anther  judged  him  less  and  less 
harshly  as  he  considered  that  Garley  had  discharged 
a  duty  which  he  could  not  shun  as  harmlessly  as  it 
could  be  discharged.  No  one  but  the  brother  and 
the  widow  of  Royal  Langbrith  knew  how  false  an 
impression  he  had  made;  for  it  could  not  be  said 
that  his  narcotized  victim  realized  it,  and  none  save 
the  rector,  who  was  to  follow  him,  knew  how  false 
he  had  been  in  making  it.  Anther  did  not  condemn 
him.  Garley,  too,  was  in  the  grip  of  that  dead 
hand  which  seemed  to  clutch  every  one  by  the 
throat,  and  his  severest  feeling  towards  him  was  for 
the  deceit  which  he  had  practised  upon  the  son 
of  Royal  Langbrith.  He  could  see  James  Lang 
brith,  where  he  had  retired  from  the  platform  to  the 
place  beside  his  mother,  watching  the  speaker  with 
what  Anther  felt  a  piteous  intensity,  and  hanging 
upon  every  empty  word.  With  tender  compassion 
Anther  wondered  if  he  felt  the  hollowness  of  the 
tribute  paid  to  his  father's  memory.  He  was  touch 
ed  for  that  poor,  generous  boy,  and  ashamed  more 
than  he  was  amused  for  his  old  friend  in  the  success 
of  his  fraud.  When  the  applause  swept  the  orator 
to  his  seat,  and  then  refluently  bore  him,  bowing 
and  smiling,  back  to  the  front  of  the  platform,  the 
young  fellow  started  forward,  and,  all  glowing  with 
tears  and  smiles,  stretched  his  hand  up  to  the  judge, 

224 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

and  the  judge  stooped  down  to  take  it.  Anther 
dropped  his  eyes  and  hung  his  head,  and  he  had  not 
the  courage  to  look  up  again  till  he  heard  Enderby 
beginning,  very  gravely  and  measuredly,  the  ad 
dress  which  the  dead  man  was  requiring  of  him,  in 
his  turn.  Then  Anther's  pity  was  no  longer  for  the 
trusting  boy,  but  for  the  good  man,  compelled  to 
this  office,  and  he  wondered  how  he  would  reconcile 
it  with  his  conscience. 

Enderby  stood  clutching  the  scant  lapels  of  his 
clerical  coat,  and  looking  pale  above  its  black.  He 
said  that  he  had  been  asked  to  speak  some  words 
concerning  the  ethical  significance  of  the  business 
they  were  about,  and  he  would  now  only  suggest  a 
few  general  notions  in  regard  to  the  respective  at 
titudes  of  giver  and  receiver,  in  the  matter  of  public 
benefactions.  Such  benefactions  were  likely  to  be 
more  frequent  in  the  future  than  in  the  past,  when 
the  town  had  become  debtor  to  one  of  its  citizens 
for  this  library,  the  most  useful  of  its  possessions, 
and  the  most  sacred,  after  the  houses  of  God;  and 
they  must  be  more  and  more  impersonally  regarded. 
The  town  was  here  in  its  collective  capacity  to  make 
acknowledgment  of  the  gift,  tardily,  it  was  true, 
but  not  the  less  gratefully;  for,  in  the  years  that 
had  elapsed,  the  people  of  Saxmills  had  fully  ex 
perienced  the  great  advantage  bestowed  upon  them. 
It  might,  perhaps,  have  been  wished — it  might,  per 
haps,  have  been  more  graceful  in  some  aspects  if 
the  town  itself  had  offered  the  memorial  it  was  ac 
cepting;  but  in  that  case  it  would  have  anticipated 
the  act  by  which  the  son  renewed,  as  it  were,  and 

225 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

confirmed  the  father's  deed.  For  himself,  the  rector 
said,  he  was  more  interested  in  this  renewal  and 
confirmation  of  it,  than  in  the  fact  of  the  original 
gift.  It  spoke  well  for  the  young  man  whom  in  dif 
ferent  ways  they  all  knew,  that  he  wished  to  testify 
his  reverence  for  his  father's  memory  by  doing  again 
one  of  the  best  things  that  his  father  could  have 
done.  In  this  he  had  not  only  testified  his  rever 
ence  to  his  father's  memory,  but  had  borne  impor 
tant  witness  to  the  imperishable  vitality  of  a  good 
deed  in  this  world.  It  was  not  only  the  evil  that 
men  do  which  lived  after  them,  but  the  good  also 
lived,  laying  upon  the  future  a  more  powerful  obli 
gation  to  virtue  than  any  bond  to  vice  that  evil 
could  impose.  God  had  apparently  willed  that  the 
good  should  continually  and  eternally  show  itself, 
and  the  evil  should  hide  itself,  for  evil,  brought  into 
the  light  of  day,  corrupted,  and  good,  whenever 
manifest,  purified  and  restored  and  strengthened 
all  men  for  good.  Such,  in  fact,  was  the  potency  of 
a  good  deed  that,  if  done  from  the  most  selfish  mo 
tive,  it  took  no  color  from  the  motive.  It  returned 
through  its  beneficent  effect  upon  the  world  to  the 
God  of  goodness.  But  they  who  were  assembled  to 
receive  from  the  son  the  evidence  that  he  renewed 
and  confirmed  his  father's  gift  to  them  had  really 
nothing  to  do  with  the  character  of  either.  They 
had  only  to  do  with  the  good-will  expressed  in  what 
was  now  their  joint  gift,  and  they  were  to  honor 
neither  of  those  men,  but  only  their  good  deed, 
which  was  not  of  them,  but  of  God.  Few  present 
had  known  the  elder  of  the  two;  all  present  had 

226 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

known  the  younger,  and  it  was  he  who  stood  for  both 
before  them.  Every  heart  must  respond  to  the  im 
pulse  which  had  governed  their  fellow -townsman 
in  his  filial  devotion  to  his  father's  memory,  and 
must  rejoice  with  him  in  the  beauty  and  fitness  of 
the  tribute  he  had  paid  it.  If  either  were  to  be 
known  by  the  other,  though  it  was  not  necessary, 
for  the  present  purpose,  that  either  should  be  known 
apart  from  his  gift,  let  the  father  be  inferred  from 
the  son,  and  let  them  not  be  separated  in  the  public 
acceptance  of  their  benefaction. 

The  rector  would  have  sat  down ;  but  James  Lang- 
brith,  who  had  remained  on  the  platform  after 
Judge  Garley's  oration,  prevented  him.  He  seized 
Enderby's  hand,  and  Anther  heard  him  say,  while 
he  clung  to  it,  "  You  have  spoken  just  as  I  feel  my 
father  would  have  wished  you  to  speak.  He  was 
the  most  reserved,  the  most  impersonal  of  men,  and 
I  thank  you,  thank  you,  thank  you  for  him  as  well 
as  myself." 

"Oh,"  the  rector  groaned,  in  a  sort  of  protest; 
but  before  he  could  say  anything  the  leading  select 
man  rose  in  his  place  and  commanded,  "Three 
cheers  for  both  the  Langbriths!"  James  Langbrith 
stepped  forward  to  acknowledge  the  applause,  and 
Anther  felt  Enderby's  eye  seek  his  own. 

There  was  no  defiance  in  the  rector's  asking  look, 
but  a  sort  of  entreaty,  as  if  for  the  effect  his  words 
might  have  had  with  the  man  who  knew  how,  pri 
marily,  they  had  been  spoken  to  him.  Enderby's 
back  had  been  turned  to  Anther  while  he  addressed 
them  to  the  people,  but  it  had  not  needed  the  com- 

227 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ment  of  the  speaker's  face  to  convey  all  their  latent 
meaning  to  Anther,  whose  eyes  were  as  troubled  as 
his  own.  He  put  out  his  hand  and  sadly  pressed 
the  hand  of  the  rector,  who  miserably  smiled  a  little. 

"You  did  the  best  that  any  man  could,  in  the 
circumstances,"  Anther  said,  under  cover  of  the 
uproar. 

"Now,  friends,"  said  the  selectman  to  the  crowd, 
when  the  cheering  had  died  away,  "the  tablet  will 
be  unveiled." 

At  the  moment  James  Langbrith  stepped  back  to 
perform  the  office,  Anther  saw  Hawberk  put  some 
thing  into  his  mouth  and  heard  him  huskily  explain, 
"Thought  I  might  need  some,  and  brought  along  a 
little  of  the  gum." 

Langbrith  pulled  at  the  cord  which  had  been  con 
trived  to  separate  the  white  curtains  veiling  the 
tablet,  and  slip  them  to  the  sides  on  the  wire  from 
which  they  hung.  The  contrivance  would  not  work, 
though  he  tugged  and  twitched,  and  there  began  to 
be  some  nervous  laughing  in  the  crowd,  which  had 
its  effect  with  him.  He  gave  an  impatient  pull  and 
the  whole  contrivance  came  away,  dropping  to  the 
ground  behind  the  platform.  A  girl's  hysterical 
cry  went  up,  and  the  people  began  to  clap  and  cheer. 
Langbrith  had  turned  an  angry  face  towards  them, 
but  their  good-will  was  so  manifest,  their  laughing 
had  been  clearly  so  helpless  from  the  sense  of  hu 
mor  which  any  unserious  mischance  appeals  to  in 
a  crowd,  that  the  anger  went  out  of  his  face,  and  he, 
too,  was  smiling  when  the  voice  of  the  selectman 
announcing  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Alway  would  ask  a 

228 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

blessing  recalled  him  to  the  necessity  of  a  more 
appropriate  expression. 

While  the  people  were  stirring  vaguely  from  the 
attitude  in  which  the  benediction  had  left  them, 
Langbrith  came  forward  and  shouted,  ''Friends, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  there's  a  lunch  at  my  mother's, 
and  everybody  is  invited — everybody!" 

The  crowd  cheered  and  the  band  played  and  the 
square  emptied  itself  in  the  direction  of  the  Lang 
brith  homestead. 


XXV 

THE  last  of  the  guests  had  got  themselves  away 
from  the  Langbrith  grounds  late  in  the  afternoon, 
with  the  difficulty  that  people  unaccustomed  to 
social  rites  find  in  taking  their  leave.  It  was  half-  ' 
past  four  o'clock  when  Langbrith  stood,  with  his 
mother,  in  the  porch  at  their  front  door,  looking 
down,  over  the  trampled  lawn  and  dishevelled  dec 
orations,  at  that  fellow-citizen  who  managed  all  the 
public  functions  of  Saxmills,  rushing  about  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  and  directing  his  shirt-sleeved  helpers 
in  the  work  of  dismantling  and  removing  the  long 
tables  of  rough  board  at  which  the  hungry  throng 
had  lately  joked  and  shouted  and  rioted. 

The  son  noted  the  knot  between  his  mother's 
eyes,  and  laughed.  "  You'd  like  to  go  out  there 
and  take  a  hand,  mother,"  he  interpreted;  "but 
you'd  better  leave  it  to  Banning.  It  '11  suit  him 
better."  He  sighed  deeply.  "It's  been  perfect, 
mother,  beyond  my  dreams.  It's  been  beautiful, 
ideal.  I  couldn't  tell  you  now,  without  disturbing 
my  sense  of  it,  how  happy  it's  made  me.  It's  made 
me  feel  as  if  the  people  here  loved  me,  and  I  do  like 
to  be  liked,  though  I  don't  know  how  to  show  it, 
and  that  they  cherish  my  father's  memory.  How 
good  everybody  has  been — how  kind!  It  was  aw- 

230 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

fully  sweet  of  the  old  doctor  to  come  and  sit  on  the 
platform  after  his  reluctance.  I  won't  forget  it." 
Langbrith  gave  a  short  laugh .  "He  knew  father  bet 
ter  than  I  do,  and  he  probably  felt  for  him  against 
the  affair;  but  if  father  had  cared  to  look  down  on 
it  to-day,  I  can  fancy  his  being  pleased  with  it  in 
some  shy,  reticent  way.  I  wish  the  doctor  could 
have  come  to  the  lunch." 

"He  said  he  had  a  patient — over  at  Wakeford," 
Mrs.  Langbrith  said.  "  I  asked  him  to  come." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  I  hoped  he  might  have  got  back. 
Well,  now,  you  must  go  in  and  lie  down,  mother. 
Take  a  good  rest."  He  put  his  arm  round  her 
waist  and  pressed  her  in-doors,  and  got  his  hat  in 
the  hall.  "I'm  going  to  pick  up  poor  old  Falk 
somewhere.  I  shall  probably  find  him  at  the 
Johns',  unless  Jessamy  got  away  with  him." 

He  kissed  his  mother  and  left  her,  not  to  lie  down, 
but  to  go  and  take  counsel  with  Norah  about  the 
things  that  Danning's  men  would  be  bringing  in  to 
be  washed  up  and  put  away.  He  saved  his  con 
science  with  respect  to  Falk  by  walking  past  the 
Johns',  and  looking  in  over  the  fence,  but  he  did 
not  stay  to  ask  for  his  friend  on  his  way  up  to  the 
Hawberks'.  He  did  not  know  whether  he  had  seen 
Falk  sitting  with  Susie  Johns  at  her  door  or  not. 
Every  sense  of  his  was  full  of  Hope  Hawberk.  Ex 
cept  as  she  was  related  to  them,  she  pressed  even 
the  facts  of  this  happy  day  out  of  his  consciousness. 

Hope's  grandmother  came  to  the  door,  and  said 
with  grim  directness,  before  he  had  asked,  "She's 
round  in  the  garden." 

231 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Oh!"  Langbrith  answered,  and  he  took  the  little 
path  in  the  grass  that  the  feet  of  the  household  had 
traced  round  the  corner  of  the  house. 

Hope  was  sitting  in  a  low  rocking-chair,  by  the 
dial,  which  the  sun  had  relieved  from  duty  for  the 
day  by  getting  down  among  the  tops  of  the  pines  on 
the  hill.  She  was  reading  a  newspaper,  but  she  was 
not  so  absorbed  in  it  that  she  did  not  hear  his  step 
sweeping  over  the  grass.  As  she  looked  up  she 
laughed  quietly,  and  in  her  laugh  he  felt  a  peculiar 
note  of  welcome.  "Well,  how  did  it  go  off?"  she 
asked,  and  she  let  fall  her  paper  and  rocked  back 
in  her  chair. 

"Don't  let's  talk  of  it,"  he  said,  and  he  crouched 
at  her  feet,  with  his  back  against  the  base  of  the 
dial.  "  Let's  talk  of  ourselves." 

"Well,  what  about  you?" 

"Nothing  about  me.  When  I  say  ourselves,  I 
mean  you,  for  you  are  ourselves.  At  least  I  am 
nobody  without  you." 

She  laughed  again,  but  her  derision  was  full  of  the 
love  which  she  did  not  try  to  keep  out  of  her  eyes. 
His  own  eyes  glowed  upon  her.  Neither  felt  the 
need  of  speaking  till  she  turned  her  head  away 
with  a  Httle  difficult  motion,  almost  as  if  it  hurt. 

"Then  you  will?"  he  murmured  from  somewhere 
deep  in  his  throat,  and  she  answered,  low: 

"Yes." 

He  bent  forward  and  put  his  head  on  her  knee. 

"Don't  be  silly,"  she  said,  with  a  catching  of  the 
breath,  while  she  smoothed  his  hair  with  her  hand. 

There  was  no  other  demonstration  between  them, 
232 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

because  he  knew  that  she  liked  best  that  there 
should  be  none,  and  it  was  a  moment  before  he 
lifted  his  head,  with  a  laugh  of  the  joy  otherwise  un 
utterable:  "I  knew  you  would  say  yes,  now.  But 
why  now?  Why  never  before?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  the  glowing  eyes  which 
she  could  not  keep  from  his  face,  but  it  seemed  to 
him  that  she  no  longer  saw  him  so  distinctly,  for  a 
mist  that  veiled  their  glow.  Her  lips  twitched  so 
that  she  could  scarcely  form  the  words:  " Can't  you 
think?" 

"No.     What  have  I  done?" 

"You  want  to  make  me  tell  you!  How  you 
acted  to  father — when — when  they  laughed — I  said 
that  I  would  do  anything  for  you,  then ;  I  said  that 
I  would  do  anything  you  asked — " 

"Hope!" 

"Don't  make  me  cry!  I  shall  hate  you  if  you 
do.  When  I  need  all  the  strength  I  have,  so!" 

"No,  Hope;  but  listen  to  me.  I  must  be  honest. 
I  didn't  do  that  for  you.  I  did  it  for  him.  I  like 
your  father;  he  was  my  father's  friend;  and  I  had 
nothing  in  my  mind  but  the  thought  of  their  old 
friendship.  That  needn't  make  you  cry,  or,  if  it  does, 
it  needn't  weaken  you.  Hope" — he  kept  getting 
her  name  in  as  often  as  he  could,  for  the  pleasure 
of  speaking  it — "  I  am  not  going  to  ask  any  promises 
of  you,  now.  We  will  let  the  future  take  care  of 
itself.  But  I  want  to  tell  you;  I  haven't  told  my 
mother  yet ;  I  am  going  to  Paris  to  study — to  study 
the  stage,  and  learn  to  write  for  it ;  I  believe  I  can 
write  plays,  and  Paris  is  the  place  to  study  the  stage. 

233 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

I  thought  I  should  ask  you  to  go  with  me ;  but  I  see 
I  can't" — she  shook  her  head  in  affirmation  of  his 
words — "but  if  I  can  take  your  love  and  leave  you 
mine,  will  you — will  you — wait?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  Hope!"  he  sighed. 

"Oh,  James!"  she  sweetly  mocked  him. 

"Where  was  I?" 

"You  had  left  me  waiting." 

"Well,  that  is  all,  then." 

They  both  laughed. 

"Of  course,"  he  took  up  the  broken  thread,  "I 
shall  tell  mother." 

"You  couldn't  go  without." 

"  Oh,  I  mean  about  you.  She  will  be  glad.  She 
likes  you  so  much,  Hope." 

"Well,  I  like  her,  too." 

"And  you  will  go  to  see  her  often,  Hope,  won't 
you?" 

"Not  often  enough  to  cause  remark,"  she  drolled, 
and  he  laughed  and  said : 

"How  funny  you  are,  Hope!  Falk  thinks  you 
are  the  wittiest  girl  he  ever  saw." 

"Well,  you've  always  told  me  Mr.  Falk  hadn't 
been  in  society  a  great  deal.  There  must  be  lots  of 
funny  girls  in  Boston." 

Langbrith  thought  that  droll,  too.  "I  believe  I 
love  you  more  for  your  fun  than  your  beauty,  Hope." 

"Perhaps  there's  more  of  the  fun." 

"  No,  I  don't  say  that.  You  are  the  most  beau 
tiful  creature  in  the  world  to  me.  And  Falk  thinks 
that  your  dark  style — " 

2.34 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Well,  I  always  thought  Mr.  Falk  was  pretty,  too. 
So  it's  an  equal  thing.  Now,  we  won't  talk  of  that 
any  more;  it's  too  personal.  We  will  talk  about 
Paris.  I  shall  never  dare  to  tell  grandmother  that 
you  are  going  to  write  plays.  She  thinks  I'm  bad 
enough  as  it  is,  and  if  she  knew  that  I  was  engaged 
to  a  person  who  wrote  plays,  she  would  certainly 
give  me  up.  Does  Mr.  Falk  know  about  your  plan  ?" 

"Why,  he's  going  with  me!  Hope!  May  I  tell 
you  a  secret?" 

"  Well,  if  it  isn't  a  very  large  one." 

"It's  nothing.  You  know  he  is  going  to  be  an 
artist,  and  Paris  is  the  place  for  art  as  well  as  the 
stage,  and  I  am  going  to  lend  him  the  money.  I'd 
give  it  to  him,  if  he'd  let  me.  What  better  use  could 
I  make  of  it  ?  But  of  course  Falk  won't  stand  that." 

"No,  I  wouldn't,  in  his  place." 

"  Does  he  care  for — I  mean  does  Susie  Johns  care 
for  him?" 

"She  never  said  so.  Perhaps  she  hadn't  been 
asked.  She's  rather  queer,  that  way.  She  never 
answers  till  she's  been  asked.  She's  very  secre 
tive." 

He  laughed,  and  began  in  another  place.  "  I 
wish  I  could  have  you  with  me  to  keep  me  from 
playing  the  fool." 

"Why,  I'm  the  greatest  fool  myself,"  she  ex 
plained. 

"No,  you're  not.  You're  the  very  soul  of  com 
mon-sense.  But  I  shall  keep  writing  to  you,  and 
consulting  you  about  everything,  and  that  will  make 
me  sensible.  And  perhaps — in  about  a  year — " 

235 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

She  mocked,  "  I  was  just  waiting  to  know  how 
long!" 

"Hope,"  he  asked  at  another  tangent,  "Dr.  An 
ther  does  think  your  father's  getting  better,  doesn't 
he?" 

"He  thinks  his  will  is  getting  stronger." 

"  I  understand  you  can't  leave  him,  Hope,  and 
that's  why  I  don't  ask  you  to  go  with  me  to  Paris 
as  well  as  Falk ;  but  when  your  father  is  all  right— 
and  he  will  be,  I  know  he  will — then  we  will  go  out 
together — my  mother  and  your  father,  as  well  as 
you." 

"What  a  beautiful  vision!  And  what  about 
grandmother?" 

"Oh,  we  would  take  her,  too." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  getting  grandmother  on 
a  steamer!  Why,  she  thinks  going  on  the  cars  is 
as  much  as  her  life's  worth." 

"We  can  manage,  somehow."  They  laughed 
together  at  his  optimism,  and  he  asked,  "  Do  you 
know  what  I  liked  best  in  the  whole  thing  to-day? 
I  mean  besides  your  father's  coming.  Dr.  Anther's 
being  there.  He  didn't  like  the  notion  of  the  tablet 
at  the  first,  and  he  let  me  feel  it ;  but  it  was  just  his 
way — working  round,  and  giving  in  handsomely  in 
the  end,  without  saying  anything.  My  heart  was 
in  my  mouth  till  he  came  onto  the  platform.  It 
wouldn't  have  been  anything  without  him." 

"Of  course  it  wouldn't.  But,  of  course,  he  was 
sure  to  come.  He's  grand." 

"Yes,  after  my  own  father,  as  I  imagine  him, 
there's  nobody  equal  to  Dr.  Anther,  as  I  know  him." 

236 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

They  talked  rapturously  away  from  themselves, 
and  they  talked  back  in  ecstatic  return,  and  an 
hour  passed  before  he  reverted  to  her  with  impa 
tience  of  anything  but  her  in  her  relation  to  himself. 
"What  made  you  cry  out  that  way?" 

"Me?     How  did  you  know  who  it  was?" 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I  should  know  your  voice, 
in  the  dark,  anywhere  in  or  out  of  the  world  ?  What 
made  you  do  it?" 

"As  if  you  didn't  know!  I  was  so  worked  up  by 
those  curtains  not  coming  apart,  and  thinking  how 
you  felt,  that  I  couldn't  help  it,  though  I  wasn't 
sure  but  it  was  somebody  else.  If  it  had  gone  on 
much  longer,  I  should  have  got  onto  the  platform 
and  married  you  on  the  spot." 

Langbrith  jumped  alertly  to  his  feet,  and  Hope 
rose,  too,  laughing.  He  put  out  his  arms  towards 
her.  "Now  I  think  it's  full  time  for  you—" 

She  did  not  try  to  escape,  but  a  sound  of  lament 
able  groaning  came  between  them,  and  she  called 
out,  "  Oh,  poor  father!"  and  whirled  from  her  lover 
into  the  house. 

He  stood  dazed  by  the  ghastly  interruption,  and 
remained  bewildered  when,  a  little  after,  she  return 
ed  to  him,  somewhat  paler,  but  not  looking  as  dis 
tressed  as  he  looked,  and  dropped  again  into  her 
chair. 

"Isn't  there  anything  I  can  do?  Go  for  Dr. 
Anther?—" 

"No,  no!  It's  all  right,  now.  He  was  just 
dreaming — he  has  awful  dreams,  but  they  are  only 
dreams." 

237 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

"Oh,  Hope!"  He  stood  before  her,  not  offering 
to  take  his  place  at  her  feet  again,  but  aching,  as 
she  saw,  with  pity  for  her. 

"  You  mustn't  mind  me.  I'm  used  to  it.  And  it 
isn't  anything  real,  you  know." 

"  It  seems  terrible.  I  don't  know  how  to  bear  it 
for  you." 

Hope  smiled.  "  Well,  you  don't  have  to,  and  I 
can  bear  it  for  myself  as  long  as — as  long  as  father 
must  bear  it.  Are  you  going  away?" 

"Yes,  I  must  go  back  to  mother — " 

She  rose,  and,  without  his  advance,  put  her  arms 
round  his  neck  and  kissed  him,  and  then  began  to 
cry  against  his  cheek.  It  was  not  the  passionate 
embrace  with  which  he  had  often,  in  his  burning 
reveries,  sealed  their  betrothal,  but  it  was  some 
thing  sacreder,  sweeter,  and  he  seemed  purified  and 
uplifted,  as  if  her  arms  were  raising  him  into  heav- 
enlier  air.  He  knew  now  what  misery  and  sorrow, 
what  squalor,  even,  he  was  making  his  part ;  but  he 
thought  only  of  her  with  whom  they  came,  and  he 
was  richly  content. 

"  Your  trouble  shall  be  my  trouble,  after  this,"  he 
began,  but  she  would  not  let  him  say  more. 

"Yes,  yes!  Don't  talk!"  and  while  she  brushed 
the  tears  from  her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief,  she 
pushed  him  from  her  with  the  other  hand. 

He  accepted  his  dismissal.  "  I  shall  come  back 
after  supper,"  he  said,  and  she  neither  invited  nor 
forbade  him.  He  did  not  go  home;  he  could  not, 
without  first  using  the  new  authority  which  her 
love  had  given  him,  and  he  went  round  by  Dr.  An- 

238 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ther's  office  to  ask  him  if  nothing,  nothing,  could  be 
done  for  her  father.  He  tried  to  think  about  it  all, 
and  how  he  should  press  the  doctor  to  some  con 
clusion,  to  some  definite  promise,  to  some  clear 
prophecy  of  a  fortunate  end;  but  it  was  confused 
in  his  mind  with  his  love,  and  he  was  so  lost  in  the 
sense  of  that  as  it  concerned  her  and  him  alone 
that  from  step  to  step  he  forgot  what  he  was  about 
and  had  to  recall  himself  to  his  errand.  Once  he 
went  down  a  wrong  turning,  and,  when  he  came  to 
Mrs.  Burwell's  at  last,  he  recognized  the  house  with 
a  kind  of  astonishment. 

"  The  doctor  ain't  here,"  Mrs.  Burwell  called  down 
to  him  from  the  window  over  the  door  as  he  stood 
with  his  hand  on  the  bell-pull.  She  had  her  head 
tied  up  in  a  handkerchief,  as  if  she  had  been  sweep 
ing;  the  impression  of  this  was  strengthened  by  her 
having  a  broom  in  the  hand  that  supported  her  on 
the  window-sill.  "He  hain't  got  back  from  that 
patient — drefful  sick  crittur,  I  guess — to  Wakeford, 
and  I'm  givin'  the  place  one  last  dustin' ;  I  don't 
know  when  it  '11  get  another.  I  was  ril  sorry  I 
couldn't  come  to  the  ceremony  to-day,  but  I  got 
my  mind  set  on  fmishin'  my  movin',  and  nothing 
couldn't  seem  to  stop  me.  I  feel  bad  about  leavin' 
the  doctor  here,  alone  like  a  cat  in  a  strange  garret, 
as  you  may  say,  but  I  guess  I  got  to.  I  don't  know 
who  he'll  get  in  to  care  for  him.  As  far  forth  as  I 
can  make  out,  he  ha'n't  even  thought  of  anybody." 

"He'll  be  in  after  supper,  I  suppose?"  Lang- 
brith  said,  with  an  imperfect  sense  of  the  words 
spilled  on  him,  as  in  a  stream,  from  above. 

239 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Yes,  if  he  gets  any  supper,"  Mrs.  Burwell  re 
sponded  with  mystery  lost  upon  Langbrith's  ab 
straction.  "  He's  always  in  nights,  you  know,  with 
out  he's  got  a  call." 

"Then  I'll  come  round  again,  later." 

"So  do!"  Mrs.  Burwell  called  after  his  averted 
figure  as  he  stepped  down  the  two  yards  of  path  to 
the  gate,  and  moved  away  with  feet  that  wandered 
with  his  wandering  thoughts. 

Something  had  penetrated  the  whirl  of  his  mind 
which  centred  around  the  idea  of  Hope  all  kindly 
and  pleasant  things,  and  he  was  afterwards  aware 
of  some  meaning  in  Mrs.  Burwell  as  to  Dr.  Anther 
which  he  had  not  taken  at  once  from  her  words. 
Had  she  meant  that  the  doctor  had  bought  her 
house  or  hired  it  ?  He  had  lived  there  a  long  time, 
and  it  might  very  well  be.  But  a  magnificent 
scheme  now  suggested  itself  to  Langbrith,  which  he 
would  consult  his  mother  about,  and  then  propose 
to  the  doctor,  if  she  approved.  He  would  offer  Dr. 
Anther  his  father's  office,  standing  apart  from  the 
mansion,  if  he  found  he  had  not  taken  Mrs.  Bur- 
well's  house;  it  would  be  more  convenient  for  him, 
and  it  would  be  near  the  hotel,  where  the  poor  old 
fellow  could  get  a  meal  at  any  time  without  being 
subject  to  such  severities  as  Mrs.  Burwell  had  prac 
tised  with  him,  and  as  he  must  fall  under  again  if 
any  village  person  took  him  to  board.  Langbrith 
himself  would  feel  so  safe,  having  him  there  near 
his  mother,  for  all  advising  and  helping  in  any  sort 
of  exigency.  With  that  lifelong  friend  near  her,  he 
would  not  feel  as  if  he  were  leaving  her  alone  for 

240 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  year  he  should  spend  in  Paris,  before  he  brought 
Hope  home  to  the  old  place. 

He  glowed  with  the  thought  of  what  motherliness 
and  daughterliness  there  would  be  between  those 
dearest  women,  and  how  he  would  protect  and 
cherish  them  both  in  their  common  reliance  upon 
him.  He  wished  Falk  was  there.  He  would  like 
first  to  consult  Falk  about  it.  Falk  had  so  much 
sense,  and  would  put  his  finger  on  any  weak  spot  in 
the  plan  and  laugh  him  out  of  it  if  it  would  not  do. 
He  felt  the  need  of  Falk  so  much  and  the  desire  of 
immediate  action  so  greatly,  that  he  turned  from 
going  home  and  walked  rapidly  up  the  hill  tow 
ards  Susie  Johns'.  He  wished  he  could  go  and  ask 
Hope's  counsel,  too,  but  it  would  be  silly — he  feared 
her  thinking  it  silly — if  he  went  back  to  her  so  soon ; 
and  if  Falk  approved,  he  knew  that  she  would,  and 
his  perfected  plan  would  be  such  a  pleasant  surprise 
for  her. 

He  could  make  an  excuse  with  Susie  Johns,  that 
he  had  come  to  fetch  Falk  home  for  tea ;  but,  when 
he  knocked  at  her  door,  the  Irish  girl  who  answered 
him  said  that  Mr.  Falk  was  at  tea  within. 

"Oh,  then,  don't  bother  him,"  he  said,  and  got 
quickly  away,  lest  Susie  should  run  out  and  hos 
pitably  seize  upon  him  for  another  guest.  "Don't 
say  who  it  was,"  he  called  over  his  shoulder  to  the 
Irish  girl,  as  he  fled. 

It  would  only  be  postponing  the  matter  a  little 
while.  He  could  see  Falk  before  he  saw  the  doctor, 
which  would  be  before  he  saw  Hope  again,  and,  with 
the  affair  settled  in  his  mind,  he  pushed  down  the 

241 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

side-hill  street  up  which  his  own  house  looked.  He 
had  not  reached  the  bottom  when  he  foreboded  a 
temptation  beyond  his  strength  at  sight  of  the  doc 
tor's  shabby  old  buggy  and  his  sleepy  horse  slump 
ed  before  the  gate.  But  now  he  suddenly  recurred 
to  the  thought  of  bringing  him  to  book  about  Hope's 
father,  and  getting  his  mother  help  to  get  something 
like  a  promise  of  Hawberk's  recovery  from  him.  He 
fancied  first  telling  his  mother  and  their  old  friend 
together  of  his  authority  for  anxiety  in  the  matter. 
Both  these  things  must  come  before  the  offer  which 
he  wished  to  make,  and  which  he  now  knew  he 
should  make  without  asking  Falk  about  it.  But 
which  of  the  two  pleasant  things  in  his  mind  should 
come  out  first  was  the  happy  question  with  him  as 
he  entered  the  wide-open  front  door  and  pushed  into 
the  twilighted  parlor. 


XXVI 

ANTHER  had  driven  home  from  Wakeford  with  a 
heart  softened  more  and  more  towards  what  had 
been  the  odious  self-compulsion  of  the  day,  by  his 
thoughts  of  the  pleasure  that  had  shone  upon  him 
from  James  Langbrith's  face  when  they  met  upon 
the  platform  before  the  veiled  effigy  of  Royal  Lang- 
brith.  There  had  been  a  fantastic  moment  when  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if  the  father's  misdeeds  might  be 
uncovered  when  the  son  tore  those  curtains  from 
his  face,  but  nothing  had  been  revealed ;  and  all  the 
fortuities — one  could  not  quite  call  them  provi 
dences — had  joined  to  keep  his  evil  life  still  in  the 
dark.  Anther  submitted;  he  had  said  to  himself  he 
could  do  no  more  than  he  had  done ;  he  was  not  sure 
that  he  had  done  unselfishly  in  the  business,  so  far 
as  he  had  acted,  and  yet  he  could  not  have  done 
other  than  he  did.  That  was  his  consolation;  and 
now  he  was  going  to  let  events  drift  as  they  would ; 
he  would  never  again  attempt  to  stay  or  steer  their 
course.  He  had  even  meant  to  come  to  the  lunch 
eon  at  the  Langbrith  house,  and  though  he  had 
gladly  spared  himself  at  the  call  from  Wakeford 
that  reached  him  when  he  left  the  platform,  yet  he 
was  coming  now  to  make  his  excuses  to  the  young 
man  for  having  been  unable  to  take  a  further  part 
in  the  affairs  of  the  day. 

243 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

He  found  Langbrith's  mother  alone  when  he  went 
in  at  the  door,  on  which  he  tapped  with  his  whip- 
handle,  and  then  entered  without  staying  to  ring. 
"James  not  here?"  he  promptly  suggested  in  sitting 
down  before  her,  with  his  hat  on  his  knee ;  he  waved 
her  away  when  she  offered,  mechanically,  to  take  it. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  he  said  he  was  going  out  to 
look  for  Mr.  Falk.  Perhaps  he  went  to  Hope's,  too." 

She  let  her  eyes  fall  and  sighed  "Yes "  when  An 
ther  said,  "It  would  be  the  best  thing,"  knowing 
that  he  meant  as  the  only  atonement  the  son  could 
make  for  the  father's  wrong.  "  He  has  always  liked 
her,"  she  added,  "but  sometimes  I  have  wondered 
whether  she  liked  him.  She's  a  strange  girl." 

Anther  said,  suddenly  turning  from  his  wish  to  let 
things  drift  to  something  in  his  immediate  thought, 
"And  there  is  the  question  of  how  she  would  feel 
towards  him  if  she  found  out,  some  time,  the  sort  of 
injury  she  had  suffered  from  his  father  through 
hers." 

"Surely  she  wouldn't  hold  James  responsible  for 
that!"  Mrs.  Langbrith  started  as  with  a  physical 
pang.  "  How  will  it  ever  come  out  now?" 

"I  don't  know.     If  Hawberk— " 

"What?" 

He  did  not  answer,  but,  "Amelia,"  he  asked,  with 
a  compassionate  intelligence  for  her  helplessness, 
"why  do  you  cling  to  this  hope  of  concealment? 
We  have  let  that  poor  boy  go  on  and  stultify  him 
self,  and  involve,  innocently  enough  on  his  part,  two 
good  men  like  Garley  and  Enderby  in  the  fraud  that 
he  has  practised  on  the  community — " 

244 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

"Do  they  know?" 

"  I  had  to  tell  them."  She  caught  her  breath,  but 
did  not  interrupt  him.  "  That's  all  nothing,  though, 
in  my  regard,  compared  with  the  harm  you  are  doing 
yourself  and  the  trouble  you  are  storing  up  for  the 
future,  when  he  finds  it  out,  as  he  must  some  day, 
and  asks  you  if  you  had  known  it  all  along.  What 
will  you  say  to  him?  I  wish  you  would  tell  him 
now,  my  dear,  as  soon  as  you  see  him,  without  an 
instant's  delay — " 

"I  can't,  Dr.  Anther;  it's  too  late.  I  can  never 
tell  him  now." 

"Then  let  me!"  It  was  always  coming  to  that 
with  him. 

"No,  that  would  be  worse.  What  would  he 
think  of  your  concealment — your  being  there  to 
day.  But  I  made  you!" 

"  Yes,"  Anther  sadly  owned,  "  I  was  there  because 
you  asked  it.  I  would  certainly  never  have  dreamt 
of  being  there  otherwise."  He  rose. 

She  rose,  too,  and  wavered  towards  him.  "  Don't 
you  think  I  knew  you  did  it  for  me?  Don't  you 
think  I  felt  it?  And  James,"  she  added,  incohe 
rently,  "he  felt  it,  too.  He  cared  more  for  your 
being  there  than  for  anything  else,  he  said."  An 
ther  laughed  forlornly.  "Oh,  don't  despise  me!  I 
know  I'm  a  coward,  but  don't  you  despise  me,  or  I 
shall  die!" 

" Despise  you!  There's  nothing  but  love  for  you 
in  my  heart,  Amelia.  Why  can't  we  be  all  in  all  to 
each  other?" 

"Well,"  she  answered,  abruptly,  desperately,  "I 
245 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

will  do  what  you  ask.  Now  I  don't  care  what  hap 
pens.  I  care  more  for  you  than  for  all  the  world. 
Don't  you  know  that?"  She  stole  her  arm  tenderly 
through  his  arm,  and  pulled  herself  towards  him, 
but  almost  at  the  moment  he  saw  the  fondness  die 
out  of  her  face  and  her  arm  slipped  from  his. 

He  turned  and  confronted  James  Langbrith  stand 
ing  in  the  door-way  and  staring  at  them.  It  was 
his  impulse,  somehow,  to  put  himself  between  the 
mother  and  the  son,  but  a  guiltless  shame  with 
held  him  and  silenced  him  when  he  tried  to  speak. 
He  heard  Mrs.  Langbrith  gasping,  "James,  I  want  to 
tell  you  that  Dr.  Anther — that  I — that  we — we  are 
going  to  get  married,"  and  he  realized  that,  in  an 
ticipating  him,  she  was  heroically  acting  on  her  in 
stinct  as  woman  and  mother. 

"Married!"  Langbrith  echoed,  and  now  he  looked 
at  Anther  alone,  as  if  for  explanation  of  something 
unintelligible  and  incredible.  He  smiled  faintly,  and 
Anther  replied  with  a  sudden  resentment. 

"Yes,  I  have  been  attached  to  your  mother  for  a 
long  time.  She  has  known  it,  and  has  consented  to 
marry  me." 

The  resentment  was  for  his  own  shame,  rather 
than  for  the  young  man's  words;  but  not  the  less  it 
kindled  the  cold  amaze  in  Langbrith  to  a  flame  of 
hostility  that  lighted  up  the  whole  past  of  conject 
ure  and  misgiving.  As  one  thing  after  another  grew 
clear  in  this  illumination,  the  young  man's  anger 
burned  within  him,  not  so  much  for  the  fact  im 
mediately  before  him,  as  for  the  series  of  facts  by 
which  he  had  been  duped.  But  curiously  concur- 

246 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

rent  with  his  swift  retrospect  was  the  flow  of  his  ten 
derness  for  Hope,  his  sense  of  her  love  for  him  and 
of  his  love  for  her,  so  that  it  was  partly  lost  in  this, 
and  half  incredulous,  that  he  began : 

"  Have  you  kept  it  from  me  so  that  you  can  crown 
my  father's  commemoration  services  with  it?  Was 
it  a  surprise  you  were  holding  back  for  me,  or  were 
you  afraid  of  telling  me?"  His  anger  gained  some 
what  upon  his  love,  through  the  mere  utterance  of 
the  offensive  words,  but  he  did  not  yet  speak  with 
a  single  mind.  What  was  this  case,  and  how  did 
his  father  enter?  He  had  that  still  to  work  out  in 
an  unalloyed  consciousness. 

"Afraid!"  Anther  dropped  Mrs.  Langbrith's 
hand,  which  he  had  caught  up,  and  started  forward, 
but  he  stopped  at  her  cry  of  "Justin!" 

"James,"  she  implored  her  son  in  turn,  "you 
don't  know  what  you  are  saying!  Yes — we  were 
afraid.  I  wanted  to  spare  you  —  I  wanted  to 
wait—" 

Now  he  answered  more  definitely:  "And  this  is 
your  notion  of  sparing  me!  Did  you  choose  this 
time,  of  all  others,  to  tell  me  that  you  had  forgotten 
my  father?" 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  him.  You  don't  know 
what  you're  saying.  Indeed — " 

"The  trouble  is  that  I  don't  know  what  you're 
saying.  I  can't  make  it  out.  Is  it  some  wretched 
joke?  Dr.  Anther,  you  know  how  I  have  always 
felt  about  my  father.  If  you  were  in  my  place  what 
should  you  say  to  a  man  in  yours  ?  It  must  be  dis 
tasteful  to  any  son  for  his  mother  to  marry  again, 

247 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

but  perhaps  you  have  special  reasons  that  would 
reconcile  me." 

His  words  were  temperate,  but  Anther  felt  the 
bitterness  that  they  covered,  and  he  answered  as 
caustically.  "  I  think  I  could  give  you  special  rea 
sons,"  he  said;  but  at  Mrs.  Langbrith's  imploring 
look  he  stopped. 

Langbrith  had  missed  the  look  and  its  significance. 
With  the  sense  of  Hope  fading  more  and  more,  he 
was  able  to  say:  "  I  can  imagine  them.  It  isn't  the 
first  time  that  I've  suspected  you  of  secretly  hating 
my  father,  with  some  such  just  cause  as  a  nature  like 
his  could  give  a  treacherous  nature  like  yours!"  He 
knew,  somehow,  that  he  was  hurting  Anther  less 
than  he  was  hurting  his  mother,  and  less  than  he 
was  hurting  himself,  even.  His  rhetoric  rang  false 
to  him.  He  was  aware  that  it  did  not  apply.  He 
forced  the  added  words:  " But  I  don't  care  to  know 
your  reasons.  I  have  done  with  you,  sir.  I  don't 
want  to  hear  anything  more  from  you."  He  turned 
from  Anther  arrogantly.  "Mother,  what  was  it 
you  were  saying  about  my  father?" 

She  found  Anther's  hand  again  and  clung  to  it. 
She  only  said,  "I'm  going  to  marry  Dr.  Anther." 

" Is  that  what  you  have  to  say  about  my  father? 
Well,  perhaps  it  is  enough." 

"Dr.  Anther  is  the  best  friend  I've  ever  had  in 
the  world,  and—  '  she  hesitated.  Langbrith  stood 
silent,  his  mind  whirling  from  point  to  point 
without  seizing  definitely  upon  any.  His  moth 
er  ended,  "He  will  be  a  good  father  to  you, 
James." 

248 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

At  this  feeble  conclusion,  Langbrith's  daze  broke 
in  cruel  sneering.  "I  am  of  age,  and  I  need  no 
father  but  the  one  that  I  have  lost,  and  that  you 
have  forgotten." 

"  I  haven't  forgotten  him,"  his  mother  answered, 
with  a  struggle  for  courage;  "I'm  remembering  him 
now  as  I  never  did  before." 

"  I  don't  understand  this,"  said  Langbrith,  haugh 
tily.  "  But  it  doesn't  matter.  I  begin  to  under 
stand  some  other  things,  though.  I  see  now  why 
this  man  has  taken  the  part  he  has  towards  my  fa 
ther's  memory,  but  why  he  should  have  had  the 
base  hypocrisy  to-day— 

"He  was  there  because  I  asked  him,"  she  inter 
posed. 

"No  matter  why  he  was  there;  his  presence  was 
an  insult  to  the  living  and  the  dead,  and  as  this  hap 
pens  to  be  my  house,  my  father's  house,  I  object  to 
his  remaining  in  it  another  instant." 

"James!" 

Anther's  hand  shook  in  Mrs.  Langbrith's  clutch, 
and  he  burst  out:  "How  dare  you  talk  so  to  me! 
If  it  wasn't  that  you  don't  know  what  you're  saying 
—if  your  ignorance  wasn't  so  monstrous —  But  I 
can  tell  you — " 

"Oh,  Dr.  Anther!"  Mrs.  Langbrith  implored  him, 
and  he  stopped,  panting.  "  Will  you  listen  to  me, 
James?"  She  turned  to  her  son. 

"Yes,  mother,  as  much  as  you  like.  You  can't 
say  anything  that  will  change  me  towards  this  hor 
rible  business,  but  I  will  listen." 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  what  I  could  say  to  you!" 
249 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

she  broke  out.     But  then  she  turned  again  helpless 
ly  to  Anther.     "  Will  you—" 

" No,  you  must  excuse  me  there,  mother;  I  could 
not  hear  anything  from  a  stranger  about  family 
affairs." 

"Dr.  Anther  is  my  family  now,"  she  began, 
bravely. 

"That  is  what  saves  him  from  the  only  answer  a 
gentleman  could  make  to  his  impudence." 

She  felt  Anther's  arm  grow  rigid  under  the  hold 
she  had  laid  on  it.  "  Well,"  she  said,  with  a  helpless 
pathos,  "as  my  son  will  not  let  my  husband  speak 
for  me,  I  will  go  with  my  husband  and  not  speak." 

"No,  Amelia,"  Anther  said,  with  the  dignity  he 
had  lost  in  his  angry  burst;  "  I  will  go,  and  you  can 
say  what  you  wish  to  your  son." 

"  I  will  say  it  before  you  or  not  at  all,  and  if  you 
leave  this  house  I  will  leave  it  with  you.  I'm  not 
going  to  justify  myself  to  you,  James."  She  turned 
to  her  son.  "I  need  no  justification — " 

"  I  am  not  requiring  you  to  say  anything,  mother." 

"And  you  won't  hear  me  then,  my  son?" 

"  If  you  have  no  need  of  being  heard,  as  you  say, 
why  should  I  put  you  to  the  trouble  of  explaining 
anything?  I  ask  no  explanation  now.  It  seems 
that  I've  been  living  all  my  life  in  a  mistake.  That's 
all.  I  supposed  we  had  the  same  ideal,  and  that 
the  memory  of  my  father  was  as  sacred  to  you  as 
to  me ;  but  it  wasn't,  and  that's  your  sufficient  justi 
fication." 

"Amelia,"  Anther  entreated,  "let  me  leave  you 
with  James." 

250 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Not  for  a  moment!"  she  returned.  "I  can't 
stay  without  you,  now." 

"Perhaps  we  can  simplify  the  situation  by  my 
leaving  you  with  him,"  Langbrith  said.  "As  it  is 
not  convenient  for  you  to  let  me  have  my  house  on 
my  own  terms,  I  will  go  to  the  hotel.  I  can  find 
Falk  and  go  to  Boston.  When  I  come  back,  I  hope 
I  can  have  my  house  to  myself."  He  recalled  him 
self  to  add,  "You  will  always  be  welcome  in  it, 
mother." 

He  turned  and  went  out  and  left  them  standing 
there  looking  at  each  other. 

"Why  didn't  I  speak?  Why  didn't  I  tell  him?" 
Mrs.  Langbrith  was  the  first  to  break  their  silence. 

"I  saw  you  try.  It  was  too  late;  we're  always 
saying  that.  Amelia,  if  this  trial  is  too  great  for 
you,  I  shall  never  blame  you.  It  has  been  all  sud 
den  and  unexpected ;  no  one  thing  more  than  another. 
I  didn't  dream  of  your  consenting  when  I  came  here. 
Give  me  up,  if  you  will — " 

"And  be  left  with  James?  Oh  no!  I  care  more 
for  you  now;  perhaps  I  always  did.  He  was  always 
hard.  It  seems  a  strange  thing  for  a  mother  to  say 
of  her  son,  but  it's  true;  and  now  he  has  been  cruel. 
It's  worse  even  than  I  thought  it  would  be.  I'm 
afraid  of  him!" 

Anther  felt  within  him  a  curious  shifting  of  the 
grounds  of  judgment,  and  he  spoke  from  the  change. 
"You  mustn't  condemn  him.  You  must  remember 
how  much  he  had  to  bear ;  thinking  of  his  father,  as 
he  did,  it  must  seem  like  sacrilege  to  him." 

"Unless  he  could  know  the  truth.     And  if  it's 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

too  late  for  the  truth  now,  take  me  away  from  the 
lie.  I  can't  bear  it  any  longer.  Can't  we  live 
somewhere  else?" 

He  took  her  literally,  and  her  shapeless  longings 
for  escape  crystallized  as  he  answered,  simply,  "I've 
bought  the  house  where  I've  lived." 

"Oh,  have  you?"  she  cried,  with  hysterical  joy. 
[<Then  take  me  there.  Let  us  go  now  —  this  in 
stant." 

"To-morrow.  We  can't  go  now,  you  know, 
Amelia." 

"  I  forgot.  Now  you  see  how  long  I  have  seemed 
to  be  married  to  you.  Do  you  like  that  ?  I  wish  I 
were!  I  can't  endure  to  pass  another  night  under 
this  roof!  It's  hateful!  hateful!  hateful!" 

"Well,  you  must  have  patience.  You  must  part 
kindly  with  your  son." 

"With  my  son?  With  Royal  Langbrith's  son?" 
Her  bitterness  expressed  to  him  all  the  revolt  of  her 
soul  from  its  long  slavery. 

He  rose  in  his  self-control  over  her  headlong  im 
pulse.  "  You  must  try  to  be  friends  with  your  son. 
Nothing  else  will  do,  Amelia.  If  he  comes  back 
here,  tell  him  we  are  to  be  married  to-morrow.  Ask 
him  to  be  with  us.  You  have  hidden  so  much  from 
the  world  so  long  that  you  can  hide  this,  too.  We 
mustn't  make  our  marriage  a  seven  days'  wonder. 
You  will  feel  differently  towards  James.  I  pity 
him  from  my  heart." 

"I  don't." 

"You  will,  and  you  must  do  your  best  to  be 
reconciled  with  him.  I  want  your  life  to  be  free 

252 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

and  happy,  from  this  on.  I  can't  let  you  incur  any 
shadow  of  self-reproach.  You  mustn't  have  one 
regret  to  chain  you  to  the  past.  Good-night,  my 
dear.  I  must  leave  you  here  because  there's  no 
where  else.  But  when  James  comes  back  you  will 
see  him,  and  try — for  my  sake — to  make  peace  with 
him.  Remember  that  his  error  is  not  his  fault!" 

"It  is  my  fault." 

"It  is  no  one's.  I  can  understand — and  tell  him 
that  I  beg  his  pardon  for  not  considering  at  once— 
what  a  bolt  out  of  the  blue  this  has  been  for  him.  We 
have  known  for  a  long  time  that  we  should  marry, 
but  he  has  never  imagined  it,  and  it  seems  a  wrong 
to  his  father,  as  he  has  idealized  him.  He  can't 
help  acting  as  he  has  done  towards  us,  but  he  will 
learn  to  act  differently.  Yes,  his  common-sense— 
and  he  has  plenty  of  it  in  the  end — will  teach  him 
that  we  could  "have  meant  no  wrong  to  his  father  if 
he  were  the  best  of  men.  Don't  let  yourself  be 
tempted,  now,  to  tell  him  the  truth.  It  could  do 
no  good:  only  harm.  Be  patient  with  him.  Bear 
everything  from  him.  He  is  deeply  hurt  in  the  part 
that  is  the  best  part  of  him ;  think  of  that.  Amelia, 
ask  him  to  be  present  at  our  marriage.  You  asked 
me  to  be  present  at — 

"Yes,  yes,  I  will.  I  don't  care  what  he  says  to 
me!" 

"That's  right.  I'll  have  Mr.  Alway.  It  needn't 
be  in  the  church,  then,  it  can  be— 

"  Here  ?"  she  shrieked.     "  In  this  house  ?" 

"No,  in  the  minister's;  and  good-night  again." 
253 


XXVII 

IN  the  quarrel  which  he  had  forced  with  his  mother 
and  Dr.  Anther,  Langbrith  was  sensible  throughout 
of  failing  to  say  the  worst.  He  had  not  put  into 
words  the  outrage  which  was  burning  in  his  heart. 

He  had  not  expressed  the  amaze,  and  far  less  the 
abhorrence,  which  he  felt.  He  had  meant  to  hurt 
Anther  to  death,  so  far  as  insult  could  kill;  and  he 
had  meant  to  wither  his  mother  with  shame.  But 
the  cruelest  blows  he  dealt  them  had  seemed  to  fall 
like  blows  dealt  in  nightmare,  as  if  they  were  dealt 
with  balls  of  cotton  or  of  down ;  and  he  had  left  them 
in  possession  of  the  place  he  ought  to  have  driven 
them  out  of  with  ignominy. 

He  was  aware  of  having  been  disabled  for  his 
part  by  the  confusion  which  still  kept  him  from  a 
clear  sense  of  what  had  befallen,  and  perhaps  saved 
him  from  its  full  effect.  He  had  entered  upon  that 
scene  with  his  soul  full  of  the  good-will,  the  tender 
purpose  towards  Anther,  which  his  happy  love  for 
Hope  had  inspired ;  and  he  had  not,  even  yet,  after 
all  that  had  passed,  wholly  freed  himself  from  it. 
He  kept  recurring  to  it  with  puzzle  and  interroga 
tion,  as  something  which  in  its  strange  metamor 
phosis  he  could  not  make  out.  It  was  still  mixed 
with  his  thought  of  Hope.  It  seemed  as  if  he  were 

254 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

going  to  tell  her  of  it  still,  as  he  had  meant  to  do, 
and  to  taste  the  pleasure  of  her  praise  for  it. 

He  could  not  make  definitely  out  what  he  was 
now  really  going  to  do;  but  he  acted  upon  the  no 
tion  that  he  wished  to  find  Falk  and  get  him  to  take 
the  train  with  him  for  Boston.  He  was  sure  that 
he  wished  to  get  as  far  away  as  he  could.  That 
was  the  first  thing.  The  next  thing  was  to  get 
away  from  the  humiliation  of  failing  to  do  justice 
to  himself  and  his  cause.  Now  he  saw  a  thousand 
proofs  that  the  offence  done  him  had  been  long  im 
pending;  that  if  he  had  not  been  a  fool,  and  blind, 
he  must  have  known  it ;  but  the  longer  it  had  been 
impending,  the  greater  the  shame,  the  greater  the 
defamation,  the  viler  the  insult  to  his  father,  to  have 
it  follow  so  instantly  upon  the  consecration  of  his 
memory.  His  heart  closed  about  the  thought  of 
his  father  with  an  indignant  tenderness,  which, 
somehow,  could  not  leave  his  mother  out.  She  had 
always  been  part  of  that  thought,  and  he  had  an 
impulse  to  entreat  her  against  herself,  as  if  being  a 
child  she  had  struck  him,  and  there  was  no  one  but 
her  for  him  to  go  to  for  comfort. 

His  feet  set  themselves  uncertainly,  as  if  his  ver 
tigo  were  physical,  while  he  pushed  on,  looking 
crazily  for  Falk.  He  could  not  go  to  Hope  yet. 

The  Irish  girl  answered  him,  at  the  house  which 
he  had  left  so  gayly  such  a  little  time  before,  that 
Falk  had  gone  out  to  walk  with  Miss  Susie.  He 
asked  " Where?"  but  the  girl  could  not  tell  him, 
and  he  realized  that  he  must  not  try  to  follow  them. 
He  could  not  go  home,  and  he  would  not  see  Hope. 

255 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

But  he  could  pass  her  house ;  there  was  that  left  him 
to  do  in  the  wild  need  he  had  of  doing  something. 

She  was  at  her  gate,  waiting  for  him,  as  he  knew, 
after  he  had  bridged  the  hour  of  his  absence  with  a 
recollection  of  the  promise  to  come  back  which  he 
had  given  her.  The  full  moon  was  looking  over  the 
eastern  shoulder  of  the  hill,  behind  the  house,  into 
his  face;  but  it  was  with  an  inner  sense,  the  vision 
which  love  so  soon  supplies  to  women,  that  she  read 
something  strange  in  it. 

"Why,  James!"  she  said. 

"Come  with  me,  Hope,"  he  bade  her,  and,  as  she 
joined  him,  wonderingly,  letting  him  seize  her  hand 
and  pull  it  under  his  arm,  as  he  pushed  away  from 
the  house,  up  the  road  climbing  into  the  shelter  of 
the  pine  woods  beyond,  "I've  got  something  to  tell 
you,  Hope ;  something  to — tell — you,"  he  forced  him 
self.  "My  mother  is  going  to  marry  Dr.  Anther." 

"How  glorious!"  she  shouted,  pulling  her  hand 
out  of  his  to  leave  herself  the  freer  to  front  him. 

"Glorious?"  he  faltered  back. 

"Yes!  I  have  always  thought  what  a  splendid 
thing  it  would  be.  They  are  such  old  friends,  and 
they  are  just  suited  to  each  other:  your  mother  is 
the  best  woman,  and  I  think  Dr.  Anther  is  the  best 
man,  in  the  world.  Yes,  it's  what  /  call  glorious." 

"  /  call  it  infamous!"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  struck 
her  with  greater  amaze  than  his  words  by  its  dread- 
fulness. 

"Why,  James  Langbrith!"  she  gasped. 

"Infamous.  Does  no  one,"  he  demanded,  turn 
ing  his  severity  upon  her,  "remember  my  father?" 

256 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Why,  yes — yes,  of  course — " 

"Is  it  glorious  for  my  mother  to  forget  him? 
Could  you  forget  me?" 

"No,  never!  And  I  don't  believe  she's  forgotten 
him.  But  it's  a  different  thing  from  you  and  me. 
She  knows  that  you  will  be  leaving  her  some  day — 
why,  I  intend  to  take  you  from  her  myself,  and,  if  I 
could  do  such  a  thing,  what  mightn't  others  do! — 
and  then  she  will  be  alone;  and  why  in  the  world 
shouldn't  she  marry  such  an  old  friend  as  Dr.  An 
ther?  It  would  be  different  if  it  were  a  stranger, 
and  I  shouldn't  blame  you,  then,  if  you  were  morbid 
about  it.  But  Dr.  Anther!  Why,  he's  always 
seemed  to  me  like  one  of  the  family.  Why,  it's 
ridiculous!  What  has  it  got  to  do  with  remember 
ing  your  father?  Now,  James,  if  you  let  yourself 
get  to  thinking  this  way  about  things,  I  shall  be 
afraid  to  marry  you.  I  say  it's  the  best  thing  that 
could  happen,  and  I  can't  understand  you." 

"No,  it  seems  you  can't." 

"Oh,  very  well!" 

"  I  don't  mean  that,"  he  made  haste  to  save  him 
self.  "No  one  can  understand  how  I  have  always 
felt  towards  my  father.  You  may  call  it  supersti 
tion,  if  you  like,  but  I  have  always  felt  him  some 
thing  sacred.  I  have  felt  as  if  he  were  a  mysterious 
influence  in  my  own  life,  shaping  it  for  the  highest 
things.  And  at  the  same  time  it's  as  if  he  ap 
pealed  to  me,  always,  from  his  grave,  for  protec 
tion.  Since  I  was  old  enough  to  realize  that  I  had 
lost  him,  I  have  never  been  recreant  to  his  trust 
in  me." 

257 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  Yes,  I  should  feel  just  so  about  my  own  father," 
Hope  granted. 

Langbrith  put  aside  the  comparison  of  his  father 
with  hers  by  something  in  his  tone  rather  than  in 
his  words.  "Yes,"  he  assented,  though  he  refused 
her  sympathy  on  those  terms.  ''But  it  isn't  the 
same  thing.  My  father  is  dead ;  and,  while  he  lived, 
he  was  not  a  man  who  could  make  himself  under 
stood;  I  can't  explain;  in  all  the  letters  he  left,  and 
his  memorandum-books,  it  was  implied.  I  thought 
my  mother  felt  the  same,  and  that  was  why  she  was 
so  silent  about  him;  and  I  thought  that  Dr.  An 
ther —  But  if  all  the  time  they  were  conspiring  to 
betray  him — if  they  were  thinking  of  themselves  and 
each  other,  when  they,  of  all  people  in  the  world, 
should  have  been  the  truest  to  him — " 

"Oh,  oh,  what  talk!"  Hope  broke  in.  "Why, 
James  Langbrith,  I  should  think  you  were  insane." 

"I  am!  I  am!"  he  choked  out.  "This  thing  is 
turning  my  brain.  I  try  to  realize  it,  and  then 
when  I  realize  it  I  feel  that  I  must  go  mad.  Oh, 
you  don't  understand;  you  can't!  you  can't!  I  feel 
so  covered  with  shame  for  my  mother." 

As  they  talked,  they  walked  swiftly.  Now  and 
then  the  moon  struck  between  the  trees,  upon  them, 
but  in  the  prevailing  shadow  they  had  the  seclusion 
in  which  they  willingly  hid  themselves,  till  they 
reached  the  top  of  the  ridge  that  overlooked  the 
house  and  below  that  the  town.  Its  varied  mur 
murs  came  up  to  them  there,  with  the  sound  of  the 
mills  vibrating  through  all. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  bitterly,  "  that  they  all  think 

258 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

I  am  a  fool  to  care  for  him,  though  he  made  their 
prosperity,  and  did  more  for  them  than  they  did  for 
themselves  all  together." 

"Now,  you  sha'n't  be  morbid,  if  I  can  help  it," 
she  broke  out  upon  him.  "  I  don't  believe  any  such 
thing,  and  I  don't  believe  you  will,  when  you  come 
to  think.  Do  you  want  me  to  talk  up  to  you  the 
way  I  used  to  at  school,  or  to  pretend  I'm  afraid  of 
you,  and  flatter  you  and  make  you  think  you've 
been  abused?" 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Of  course,  we  haven't  been  together  so  much 
since  you  went  to  Harvard;  but  since — since  this 
afternoon,  I've  been  feeling  the  old  way,  as  if  we 
were  children  again,  and  we  should  always  speak 
right  out  anything  we  thought.  There  wouldn't 
be  any  use  or  sense  in  it  if  we  couldn't." 

"Why,  of  course." 

"And  you  believe  that  I  care  for  you  more  than 
for  any  one  else  in  the  world?" 

"That's  how  I  care  for  you." 

"And  that  I  wouldn't  say  anything  I  didn't  be 
lieve  was  for  your  good  ?' ' 

"  I  can't  think  of  you  apart  from  myself." 

"  Well,  then,  listen :  you  know  very  well  that  every 
body  honors  you  for  wanting  to  commemorate  your 
father.  They  don't  know  anything  about  him,  but 
they  think  you  do;  so  that's  settled,  and  we  won't 
have  any  misanthropy  for  the  people  down  there. 
Now  you're  sure  I  may  say  what  else  I  think  to 
you?" 

"Anybody  may  say  what  they  think  to  me." 
259 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Oh,  if  you  want  to  be  boyish!" 

"Go  on,  Hope!"  he  said,  humbly.  "I  beg  your 
pardon." 

''There's  no  pardon  to  be  begged  or  granted.  I 
just  want  you  to  see  this  in  the  right  light,  and  I've 
got,  first  of  all,  to  know  what  you  said  to  your 
mother." 

"I  don't  remember  the  words.  But  I  let  her 
know  how  I  felt,"  he  gloomily  answered. 

"And  to  Dr.  Anther?" 

"Nothing!  I  wouldn't  speak  to  him.  But  I  let 
him  know  that  he  was  ordered  out  of  the  house." 

"You  did!  Well,  I've  half  a  mind  never  to  speak 
to  you  again.  And  did  he  go?" 

"No.  /  went,"  Langbrith  said,  with  sullenness, 
somewhat  crestfallen.  "I  told  my  mother  I  was 
going  to  Boston  with  Falk,  to-night.  Did  you  ex 
pect  me  to  stay  and  see  them  married?" 

"Where  is  Mr.  Falk?"  Hope  asked,  as  if  to  gain 
time  before  answering  his  question. 

"I  couldn't  find  him.  He  was  walking  some 
where  with  Susie  Johns." 

"  And  why  didn't  you  go  to  Boston  without  him  ?" 

He  looked  into  her  face  in  a  daze  that  did  not  at 
once  yield  to  her  intention. 

"Without  coming  to  see  you?" 

"Oh,  you  stayed  for  that,  and  now  it's  too  late 
to  go."  " 

"  It's  too  late." 

"And  so  you're  going  back  to  your  mother?" 

"I'm  going  back  to  the  hotel  for  the  night; 
then—" 

260 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"No,  James,"  she  said,  gently,  dropping  her 
mockery  in  the  seriousness  which  was  in  the  veiled 
depth  of  her  nature ;  ''you  mustn't  do  that.  I  want 
you  to  do  what  I  say.  Will  you?" 

"  I  will  listen  to  what  you  say." 

4 'No,  that  isn't  enough.  I  want  you  to  go  back 
to  your  mother,  and  say,  '  I  was  all  wrong ;  I  know 
I  am  wrong  because  I  know  you  couldn't  be.'  Will 
you  say  that?" 

"No,  never!  I  wouldn't  say  it  if  you  made  it  a 
condition  of  my  ever  seeing  you  again." 

"Do  you  think  I  would  do  that,  or  do  anything 
that  would  make  me  a  tyrant  over  you  ?  I  am  not 
so  foolish,  no  matter  how  wicked  I  am.  I  wouldn't 
give  you  up  if  you  chose  to  stay  in  the  wrong ;  but  I 
know  some  day  you  will  want  to  put  yourself  in  the 
right,  and  I  don't  want  it  to  be  too  late.  Now  will 
you  do  this?  Go  and  say,  'Mother,  I  can't  with 
draw  what  I  said,  but  I  know  you  believe  that  you 
are  doing  right,  and  I  will  stay  here  and  be  at  your 
marriage. '  Will  you  ?' ' 

"Wliy  do  you  wish  me  to  do  that?"  he  struggled 
against  the  sense  that  he  was  giving  way  to  her. 

"  Because  I  hate  you,  and  want  to  do  you  all  the 
harm  I  can." 

He  understood.  "Well,  I  can't  tell  her  what 
you  say;  but  if  she  wishes  to  marry  that  man,  she 
mustn't  seem  to  do  it  against  my  will." 

"And  you'll  promise  her  to  be  at  the  ceremony?" 

"No,  I  won't  do  that,  Hope;  I  won't  do  it  even 
for  you.  How  could  I,  without  seeming  to  con 
done  it,  to  approve  of  it,  when  my  whole  nature 

261 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

revolts  against  it?  Would  you  want  me  to  act  such 
a  lie  as  that?" 

"You  know  that  it  would  seem  a  quarrel  with 
your  mother  if  you  didn't." 

"Well,  there  is  a  quarrel.  She's  no  mother  of 
mine  if  she  marries  that  man." 

"But  you  said  yourself  that  she  mustn't  seem  to 
do  it  against  your  will." 

"No  matter  for  that.  They  can  wait  till  I  go 
away;  till  I  put  the  ocean  between  me  and  the 
loathsome  thought  of  it.  I've  promised  enough. 
I  can't  do  more  than  I've  said  I  would;  no,  not 
even  for  your  asking,  Hope!" 

"Do  you  think  I  ask  it  for  myself?" 

"No." 

"For  Dr.  Anther,  or  your  mother,  even?" 

"No." 

"For  whom,  then?" 

"For  me,  I  suppose.     But  you  ask  too  much  for 


me." 


She  could  not  mistake  his  sullen  finality.  She 
sighed  deeply,  but  not  desperately.  "Well,  then, 
tell  her  that  you  won't  oppose  the  marriage.  And 
if  you  are  going  to  do  that,  you  can't  do  it  too  soon  "  ; 
and  she  began  to  find  her  way  trippingly  down  the 
slope  that  led  from  the  hill-top  into  the  garden  be 
hind  her  house.  Langbrith  followed  more  heavily 
and  more  slowly,  and  less  securely  of  the  way,  and 
she  had  to  wait  for  him  beside  the  gate,  on  which 
the  moon  was  trying  feebly  to  paint  the  hour.  He 
felt  that  he  had  no  right  to  her  embrace;  but, 
when  she  turned  there  and  put  her  arms  round  his 

262 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

neck  and  kissed  him,  his  sore  heart  melted  within 
him. 

He  wanted  to  say  that  he  would  do  what  she 
asked,  but  somehow  he  could  not,  and  they  parted 
without  further  words,  except  a  whispered  "Good 
night!"  from  him,  and  a  "Good-night,  dearest!  Be 
good!"  from  her. 

A  light  showed  in  the  roof -chamber  which  he 
knew,  and  as  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  house, 
towards  the  street,  a  low  moaning,  the  precursor  of 
nightmare  within,  stole  out  of  the  lifted  sash  on  the 
moonlit  air.  He  thought  of  the  burden  and  afflic 
tion  her  father  was;  but  he  did  not  think,  he  was 
too  young  for  that,  what  a  burden  and  affliction  her 
husband  might  be;  and,  doubtless,  Hope  herself, 
strengthened  for  one  trial  by  the  other,  did  not  feel 
either  beyond  her  woman's  force,  or  both  more  than 
her  woman's  share. 

Langbrith  pulled  himself  more  and  more  slowly 
homeward.  The  outer  door  was  open,  as  he  had 
left  it,  and  he  passed  in  and  stood  a  moment  at  the 
door  of  the  parlor.  The  moonlight  without  showed 
him  his  mother  sitting  in  the  room,  as  if  she  had  not 
stirred  from  the  chair  into  which  he  had  seen  her 
sink  when  he  madly  broke  from  her  entreaty. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  stonily,  for  all  the  pathos  of 
the  sight,  "I  know  you  think  you're  right,  and,  if 
you're  going  to  be  married  soon,  I  will  stay  and  be 
present." 

At  first  she  did  not  answer ;  but,  after  he  had  be 
gun  to  imagine  she  had  not  heard  him,  she  said,  "  I 
am  not  going  to  be  married." 

263 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Langbrith  waited,  in  his  turn,  before  he  said,  "I 
don't  understand;  but  I  suppose  you  know  what 
you  mean,  at  any  rate."  And  he  now  felt  himself 
speaking  as  much  to  Hope  as  to  his  mother;  ''I've 
done  what  I  could." 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  with  bitter  rejection  of 
the  immediate  purport  of  his  words,  "you've  done 
what  you  could." 


XXVIII 

MRS.  LANGBRITH  did  not  wait  for  Anther  to  come 
to  her  for  the  withdrawal  of  her  promise :  she  could 
not  take  the  chance  of  another  meeting  between  him 
and  her  son.  She  sent  him  word  the  next  morning, 
as  soon  as  Norah  was  up.  She  had  not  slept,  con 
sciously  waiting  to  send  it,  and  he  had  not  slept, 
unconsciously  waiting  to  receive  it. 

He  read  her  note  without  surprise;  he  read  it  al 
most,  he  felt,  with  a  sort  of  expectation.  "I  must 
take  back  my  word.  I  cannot  keep  it.  You  know 
why.  We  ought  to  have  known  I  could  not." 
Within,  the  note  was  neither  addressed  nor  signed. 
He  read  it  passively,  and  folded  it  up  and  put  it 
into  his  pocket-book.  That  day,  as  he  made  his 
visits,  he  thought  recurrently  of  those  weak  forms 
of  animal  life  which  gather  their  strength  for  a  sud 
den  spurt,  and  then,  when  it  is  spent,  rest  helpless 
till  their  forces  are  renewed.  He  had  taken  her  in 
a  moment  when  her  will  had  accumulated  strength 
enough  for  action;  but  the  impulse  had  exhausted 
itself,  and  now  she  could  not  act.  At  first,  he  said 
to  himself  that  he  must  wait  for  another  rise  of  her 
slight  powers,  and  then  help  her  to  prevail  with 
herself.  But,  at  last,  he  said  that  this  would  be 
taking  advantage  of  her  weakness — making  himself 
her  tyrant,  her  oppressor. 

265 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

She  was  not  less  but  more  dear  to  him  because 
of  her  feeble  will.  He  had  always  pitied  her  for 
her  subjection  to  the  brute  force  of  others — of  her 
husband  and  of  her  son;  and  the  love  that  had  be 
gun  in  pity  continued  increasingly  in  pity.  She 
was  never  so  dear  to  him  as  now  when  she  had 
failed  him.  He  could  not  decide  that  she  had  failed 
him  more  finally  than  before,  but  she  had  failed 
him  more  signally.  He  promised  himself  that  he 
would  not  try  to  see  her  again,  as  long  as  her  son 
was  with  her ;  and,  in  fact,  it  was  not  till  the  morn 
ing  after  Langbrith  had  been  gone  a  week  that  he 
stopped  his  horse  at  her  gate,  and  found  his  way  up 
the  box-bordered  path  to  her  door. 

She  had  seen  him  coming,  and  met  him  at  the 
threshold  with  a  dismay  and  entreaty  that  went  to 
his  heart. 

"How  do  you  do,  Amelia?"  he  asked.  And  she 
answered : 

" Have  you  come  to  say  that  you  despise  me?" 

"  Do  you  know  me  so  little  as  not  to  know  that  I 
care  for  you  more  than  ever  I  did?"  he  protested. 
But  at  the  kind  of  fluttering  in  her,  he  said:  "I 
hadn't  come  to  speak  of  that;  I  never  will  be  the 
first  to  speak  of  that  again.  I  know  that  James 
has  left  you.  I  wouldn't  come  tin  I  knew  that, 
though  I  wanted  to  assure  myself  with  my  own  eyes 
that  you  were  well." 

She  looked  at  him  in  gratitude  that  included  the 
larger  with  the  lesser  favor,  and  answered,  evasive 
ly,  "  He  went  last  Saturday ;  he  sailed  this  morning." 

"Yes." 

266 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Hope  Hawberk  and  he  are  engaged.  She's 
been  to  see  me.  But  he  told  me  before  he  left. 
She's  a  good  girl." 

Anther  said,  as  if  in  reply,  "James  is  a  good  man." 
Those  unfailing  tears  came  into  Mrs.  Langbrith's 
eyes. 

"7  know  who  is  a  good  man,"  she  said. 

"When  are  they  to  be  married?"  Anther  asked, 
ignoring  her  worship. 

"They  don't  know,  exactly;  not  for  a  year,  at 
least.  He  says  he  wants  to  be  sure  that  he  is  doing 
something  over  there,  first.  Do  you  understand 
what  it  is  that  he  wants  to  do  ?" 

"  Not  very  well;  but  I  have  heard  of  other  young 
men  studying  to  write  for  the  theatre,  there.  The 
French  are  supposed  to  do  those  things  best." 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  vaguely  assented.  "He's 
got  that  Mr.  Falk  to  go  with  him." 

"That's  good.     He  seems  to  be  a  good  fellow." 

"  I  think  he  will  be  a  good  influence,"  Mrs.  Lang 
brith  suggested. 

"  Oh  yes,  but  James  could  be  trusted  to  himself." 

"Yes.  Dr.  Anther,"  she  broke  off,  "do  you 
think  Mr.  Hawberk  is  going  to  get  well?" 

He  looked  quickly  at  her. 

"Why?" 

"  Hope  thinks  he  is.  She  says  he  is  trying  harder 
than  he  ever  did  before ;  he's  paying  more  attention 
to  what  you  want  him  to  do.  She  says  that  the 
days  when  you  want  him  to  take  the  medicine  in 
stead  of  the  laudanum  he  does  not  take  the  laud 
anum  at  all." 

267 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I  haven't  seen  him  for  more  than  a  week.  His 
gain  depends  upon  how  long  he  has  been  keeping 
faith  with  me." 

"I  guess  it's  more  than  five  or  six  days,  now. 
Dr.  Anther,  if  Mr.  Hawberk  should  get  over  it, 
would  he  begin  to  tell  the  truth,  or  would  he  go  on 
talking  the  same  as  he  does  now?'1 

" Talking  about  what?" 

"Oh,  everything.  You  said  that  his  opium-eat 
ing  prevented  his  telling  the  truth." 

"The  truth?" 

"Well,"  she  said,  desperately,  "about  Mr.  Lang- 
brith.  If  he  got  well,  would  he  say  what  Mr.  Lang- 
brith  really  was?" 

Anther  rose,  and  walked  across  the  room  and 
back;  and  he  did  not  sit  down  again.  "He  would 
be  apt  to  say  what  he  really  was." 

She  drew  a  long  breath.     "I  don't  know  as  I 
should  like  that,"  she  said,  piteously,  and  her  voice 
trembled.     "It  would  get  to  James,  and  —  and— 
I  don't  know  as   I  want  he   should   ever  know, 
now." 

They  looked  at  each  other,  he  searchingly,  she 
beseechingly.  He .. wondered,  "What  is  she  asking 
me?"  and  a  pit,  on  the  edge  of  which  she  seemed 
to  tremble,  opened  to  his  conjecture.  His  gaze 
hardened,  and  hers  sank  under  it.  "I've  nothing 
to  do  with  that,"  he  said  to  her  falling  face.  "My 
business  is  to  cure  Hawberk,  if  I  can,  at  any  risk, 
and  with  any  consequence." 

She  returned  wildly,  as  if  in  terror  of  something 
she  had  barely  escaped.  "Yes,  yes!  You  must! 

268 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

And,  oh,  I  hope  you  can  do  it!  I  can't  help  what 
he  says  about  Mr.  Langbrith;  I  don't  care  who 
knows  the  truth.  Only  cure  him!  Why  do  you 
look  at  me  so,  Dr.  Anther,  as  if  you  blamed  me? 
Well,  I  am  to  blame.  I  did—" 

"Hush,  Amelia!  I  don't  blame  you.  I  under 
stand  you.  Don't  think  I  blame  you,  or  hold  you 
responsible  for  anything."  Whatever  it  was  that 
had  passed  from  one  consciousness  to  the  other  was 
confessed  and  pardoned,  and  he  took  her  hand  in 
saying,  while  her  tears  rose  without  falling,  "  I  have 
been  thinking  the  whole  matter  over  very  anxiously 
since  I  saw  you  last,  and  I  have  asked  myself,  now 
that  we  can  never  be  anything  more  to  each  other 
than  we  are,  what  would  be  the  use  of  James's  ever 
knowing  the  sort  of  man  his  father  was.  I  have 
had  my  impulses  to  revenge  myself  on  him,  to  pun 
ish  him  for  what  I  have  considered  his  insolence  to 
you  as  well  as  me ;  but  I  have  fully  realized  that  his 
wrong  came  from  the  illusion  in  which  he  lived,  and 
that  we  could  not  destroy  this  illusion  now  to  any 
good  purpose,  and  I  have  no  longer  any  wish  to 
hurt  him.  Let  it  go.  But  as  a  physician,"  he 
added,  "there  can  be  no  doubt  of  my  duty.  Haw- 
berk  might  live  on  indefinitely,  as  an  opium-eater, 
and,  again,  he  might  die  suddenly.  It's  my  busi 
ness  to  keep  him  alive  and  get  him  well." 

"Oh  yes,  I  know  that.  It  was  because,"  she 
entreated,  "I  thought  it  would  be  so  dreadful  if  I 
thought  it  that  I  thought  it." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  sad  intelligence  where 
she  stood  wavering.  "I  understand,"  he  said,  and 

269 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

he  took  her  hand,  hesitating.     Then  he  dropped  it, 
saying  "  Good-bye,"  and  left  the  house. 

He  drove  away  hardly  aware  of  anything  outside 
himself,  till  he  was  aware  of  corning  to  the  rectory. 
Then  he  realized  that  he  was  going  to  see  Hawberk. 
He  was  beset  by  a  sudden  longing  to  speak  with 
Enderby,  and  was  staying  himself  against  it  in  a 
sense  of  its  meanness  and  unfairness,  when  Mrs. 
Enderby 's  voice  called  to  him  from  the  yard,  where 
she  was  gathering  some  flowers  from  the  blossomed 
shrubbery.  He  perceived  he  had  stopped  at  the  gate. 

"Won't  you  come  in  and  see  Dr.  Enderby?"  she 
called. 

"No,  no,  I  thank  you,"  he  returned.  "I  hope 
he's  well." 

"Oh,  quite  well,"  she  answered,  looking  at  the 
sprays  in  her  hand.  "I  was  just  getting  some 
flowers  to  send  to  Hope,"  she  said,  as  she  came  to 
the  gate.  "Aren't  these  roses  magnificent?"  She 
touched  their  cheeks  with  the  hand  from  which  she 
dangled  her  garden-shears.  "They're  fit  for  any 
fiancee,  even  such  a  little  dear  as  Hope.  You've 
heard,  of  course?" 

"Yes." 

"It's  too  delightful!  There's  something  very  ro 
mantic,  don't  you  think  ?  in  his  remaining  constant 
to  her  after  all  the  nice  girls  he  must  have  seen  in 
Boston  and  Cambridge  and  Brookline,  as  a  student. 
But  she's  wonderful!  Yes,  she  is.  And  so  happy! 
Have  you  seen  her  since?" 

"No,  but  I  suppose  I  shall  see  her  now.  May  I 
take  her  your  flowers?" 

270 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Oh,  will  you?  Thank  you,  so  much."  She 
came  out  and  put  the  flowers  on  the  seat,  where  he 
made  room  for  them  beside  him.  "It's  rather 
hard,"  she  ran  on,  "her  being  left  behind  here  and 
he  gone  out  to  Paris.  But  her  father's  being  so 
much  better  is  a  great  compensation.  You  must 
feel  doubly  anxious  to  cure  him  now.  Of  course, 
they  never  could  think  of  marrying  and  going  away 
from  him  while  he's  in  this  state.  And  you  really 
have  hopes  of  him?" 

Anther  could  not  smile,  even  in  his  amusement 
with  the  comely,  kindly  woman  beaming  up  at  him 
with  her  hand  above  her  eyes.  "  I'm  doing  my 
best,"  he  said,  gravely. 

"And  you  will  succeed." 

"These  cases  are  difficult;  but  I  have  my  hopes." 

"And  you  shall  have  my  prayers — our  prayers!" 
she  said,  fervently.  "You  won't  come  in  and  see 
Dr.  Enderby?" 

"Not  this  morning.  I  have  too  much  to  say  to 
him." 

"Yes,"  she  assented,  dropping  her  eyes;  and  he 
knew  that  she  knew  what  was  in  his  thoughts. 


XXIX 

ANTHER  did  not  find  Hawberk.  Hope  said,  from 
the  steps  of  the  house  which  the  doctor  could  drive 
so  near,  that  he  had  gone  down  into  the  village; 
she  believed  that  he  meant  to  call  at  the  doctor's 
office  before  he  came  back.  She  was  always  a  cheer 
ful  presence,  but  now  joy  seemed  to  radiate  from 
her  like  a  rapturous  effulgence.  Anther  felt  it,  and 
he  felt  that  if  she  knew  of  his  own  reason  for  sad 
ness,  she  had  the  same  right  to  ignore  it  in  her 
own  nerves  as  she  had  to  ignore  her  father's  misery. 
She  looked  as  if  lifted  tiptoe  by  her  happiness,  and 
her  voice  danced  with  her  dancing  eyes. 

"Why  haven't  you  been  to  congratulate  me,  Dr. 
Anther?"  she  challenged  him,  archly.  "I  do  be 
lieve  you  don't  care!" 

"Oh,  I  guess  not,"  he  retorted,  feeling  his  load 
raised  in  part  by  the  mere  ecstasy  of  her  spirits.  "  I 
hadn't  been  officially  notified." 

"Well,  you  are  now.  I  was  waiting  to  come  and 
tell  you,  when  I  was  sure  I  could  tell  you  how  much 
better  father  was.  He  hasn't  disobeyed  for  nearly 
a  week — ever  since  James  left.  It  all  seems  to  come 
together.  It's  made  me  so  wretched." 

"Well,  you  don't  look  it,"  he  answered.  But  he 
did  not  smile  at  her  mocking,  and  she  recollected 

272 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

herself.  She  looked  at  him  in  wistful  sympathy, 
but  the  years  between  them  were  so  many,  and  Dr. 
Anther  was  such  a  really  dignified  person,  that  she 
could  not  venture  to  speak  her  sympathy,  uninvited. 
He  did  not  invite  her.  He  felt  himself  blush  at  the 
pity  of  the  joyous  young  creature  who  was  imagin 
ing  his  case  from  her  own,  in  an  equality  of  passion. 
It  embarrassed  him  in  his  consciousness  of  the  dif 
ference.  She  grew  a  little  embarrassed,  herself,  and 
he  knew  that  he  was  wounding  her.  "  Did  you  say 
your  father  had  gone  to  see  me?"  he  asked,  gather 
ing  up  his  reins,  while  Hope  stepped  back  from  the 
wheels. 

"Dr.  Anther!"  The  hoarse  croak  of  her  grand 
mother  intercepted  her  answer,  and  the  doctor  saw 
the  stooping  figure  and  fierce  face  of  the  old  woman 
in  the  open  doorway;  "I  want  you  should  tell  this 
crazy  girl  there  can't  come  any  good  from  that 
Langbrith  tribe.  I  know  'em  root  and  branch,  and 
I  don't  know  any  good  of  'em.  If  ever  Lorenzo 
Hawberk  gets  to  be  a  man  again,  instead  of  a 
laudanum  toper,  I  can  tell  him  a  thing  or  two 
about  the  Langbriths  that  '11  lock  their  wheels  for 
'em." 

Hope  turned  and  ran  back  to  her  grandmother, 
whom  she  gently  pushed  in-doors.  "Now,  grand 
mother,  I  guess  Dr.  Anther  knows  as  much  about 
the  Langbriths  as  you  do,"  she  said,  and  she  turned 
her  laughing  face  over  her  shoulder  to  show  him  that 
she  was  not  taking  her  grandmother  seriously. 
"Good-bye,  Dr.  Anther,"  she  shouted,  and,  suddenly 
remembering  the  flowers,  he  called  out  to  her: 

273 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

''Oh,  hold  on  a  moment,  Hope;  here's  something 
Mrs.  Enderby  sent  you  by  me." 

"Well,  I  never  did!"  she  rippled  down  to  him 
with  a  laugh  that  denied  any  sadness  in  the  world. 
"What  would  you  have  said  if  you'd  forgotten  alto 
gether?  Oh,  how  gorgeous!" 

She  fluttered  up  the  steps  again  with  her  face 
buried  in  the  flowers,  and  then  she  called  back, 
"Oh,  /  forgot,  this  time.  Thank  you,  Dr.  Anther," 
she  sweetly  chanted,  and  the  doctor  drove  away. 

He  felt  it  an  escape  not  to  find  Hawberk  waiting 
for  him.  He  found  both  the  bottles,  one  for  lauda 
num  and  one  for  medicine,  which  Hawberk  had  left, 
and  a  scribbled  note  from  him:  "Will  call  for  these 
later.  Guess  we're  getting  the  upper  hand  of  that 
green  fellow  a  little.  I  couldn't  get  him  to  come 
with  me,  anyway." 

Dr.  Anther  was  taking  his  meals  at  the  hotel 
when  he  could  think  of  them  or  time  them  aright, 
and  his  hired  man  was  in  a  sort  of  loose,  general 
charge  of  his  place,  pending  the  installation  of  some 
specific  house-keeper,  of  whom  the  doctor  had  as 
yet  no  distinct  prevision.  When  the  hired  man  was 
not  about,  the  door  was  free  to  any  one  who  would 
open  it,  and  patients  came  in  and  waited  for  the 
doctor,  or  wrote  their  calls  on  his  slate  and  went 
away. 

He  now  examined  his  slate,  and  found  no  call 
so  pressing  but  that  he  felt  justified  in  sitting  down 
and  giving  Hawberk  a  chance  to  return  before  he 
started  on  his  rounds.  He  was  perplexed  by  a  sit 
uation  which  would  once  have  been  joy  and  triumph 

274 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

to  him,  mixed  with  the  hope  whose  fierceness  he 
now  recognized  with  abhorrence.  What  had  worn 
the  high  look  of  righteous  retribution  and  been  the 
promise  of  happiness  was  now  more  like  a  menace 
of  the  peace  which  alone  remained  his  desire,  as  far 
as  he  had  any  desire.  He  had  been  beaten  in  the 
struggle.  The  dead  hand  had  been  too  strong  for 
him.  If  he  could  still  prevail,  through  Hawberk's 
restoration  to  truth  in  his  restoration  to  health,  he 
would  prevail  in  vain,  for  he  would  prevail  too  late. 
Nothing  but  his  duty  remained,  a  duty  that  was 
barren  of  personal  reward,  and  that  if  done  success 
fully,  as  regarded  Hawberk,  must  be  done  at  the 
risk  of  fruitless  suffering  for  others.  It  was  with  a 
sense  of  reluctance  close  upon  disgust  that  he  pulled 
himself  together,  at  the  sound  of  shuffling  steps, 
which  he  did  not  doubt  were  Hawberk's,  loosely 
dragging  themselves  up  his  walk. 

John  Langbrith  came  in,  and  lounged  weakly  into 
the  easy-chair  with  a  cursory  nod  to  the  doctor.  "  I 
want  to  see,"  he  said,  without  further  greeting,  "if 
you  can  do  something  for  this  dyspepsia  of  mine.'* 
They  had  not  parted  friends,  or  even  courteous  ac 
quaintances,  at  their  last  meeting;  but,  as  John 
Langbrith  ignored  that,  Anther  ignored  it,  too,  in 
the  superior  interest  of  their  relation  as  patient  and 
physician. 

"Is  it  worse?"  he  asked. 

"If  it  wasn't  worse,  I  shouldn't  have  come.  I 
can  stand  a  good  deal  without  squealing,  but  I  can't 
stand  everything!"  Langbrith  began  nervously 
swinging  the  leg  he  had  crossed  upon  the  other,  and 

275 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

looked  about  for  something  to  chew.  In  default  of 
anything  else,  he  tore  a  piece  from  the  splint  bot 
tom  of  his  chair  and  chewed  upon  that,  as  he  laconi 
cally,  almost  sardonically,  rehearsed  his  symptoms. 
Anther  listened  without  prompting  questions,  and 
at  the  end  John  Langbrith  said,  "I  presume  you'll 
come  out  with  the  old  thing:  overwork." 

Anther  rubbed  his  hand  all  over  his  face,  after  his 
fashion.  "  That's  usually  the  trouble  with  nervous 
dyspeptics,  when  it  isn't  overeating  or  overdrinking. 
Couldn't  you  get  a  little  time  off  and  go  somewhere 
for  a  change,  as  well  as  rest?" 

"I  guess  I've  got  to.  What  can  you  give  me  to 
take,  while  I'm  putting  things  in  shape  to  leave?" 

"I'll  do  something  to  tide  you  along;  but  you 
understand  that  it's  merely  temporary."  Anther 
turned  in  his  chair  to  write  a  prescription,  pausing 
and  thinking  over  it,  while  John  Langbrith  continued 
talking  to  his  back. 

"If  you  could  get  off  on  a  good  long  sea- voyage, 
it  would  be  the  best  thing — two  or  three  weeks." 

"  I  could  get  off  on  that  as  well  as  anything  else. 
The  devil  of  it  is  to  get  off  on  anything  at  all.  There 
ain't  a  soul  to  leave  the  business  with,  the  way  I 
want  to.  If  that  fool  of  a  boy  was  worth  the  pow 
der  to  blow  him,  I  should  be  all  right.  What's  he 
going  to  do  over  there,  anyway  ?  You  make  it  out  ?' ' 

"He's  going  to  learn  to  write  plays,  as  I  under 
stand." 

"Write  plays!"  John  Langbrith  grunted.  "Who 
wants  his  plays?" 

"That  remains  to  be  seen." 
276 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Well,  I'm  not  goin'  to  stan'  it.  They'll  find 
that  out,  both  of  'em.  If  his  mother  hadn't  babied 
him  up  so,  and  kept  him  in  cotton  all  his  life,  I 
could  have  worked  him  into  the  business  before 
this,  and  now  I  could  leave  it  in  his  hands." 
"You  say  you  don't  sleep  very  well?" 
"Sleep!  How  can  a  man  sleep  with  a  stomach 
like  mine  ?  But  I  shouldn't  care  for  the  not  sleeping. 
Never  did  want  much  sleep.  The  devil  of  it  is,  I 
don't  wake  well.  Sometimes  I'm  in  such  misery  I 
don't  hardly  know  where  I  am.  Why  can't  you 
give  me  some  of- Hawberk's  dose?" 

"  I  can  if  you  want  to  come  to  Hawberk's  condi 
tion." 

" I  suppose  you  could  cure  me  if  you  have  him?" 
"  I  don't  boast  of  having  cured  him,  yet." 
"I  thought  you  did,  the  last  time."     Langbrith 
chuckled  with  a  dry  pleasure,  while  he  seemed  in 
different  as  to  the  doctor's  sharing  in  the  recollec 
tion.     "If  you  could  get  him  on  to  his  legs  again, 
I  might  leave  him  in  charge  of  the  mills.     Maybe 
he  wouldn't  want  to  blow  on  Royal,  then!" 

Anther  still  sat  stooped  over  his  desk,  and  gave 
no  heed  to  Langbrith' s  continued  pleasantry.  He 
wheeled  abruptly  in  his  chair,  and  held  a  prescrip 
tion  towards  his  patient.  "There,  that's  the  best 
I  can  do  for  you  now ;  but  get  away  as  soon  as  you 
can." 

Langbrith  folded  up  the  prescription,  and  put  it 
into  his  pocket-book,  but  he  did  not  rise  at  once. 
"I  guess  I  shall  have  to,  unless  this  does  the  busi 
ness  for  me.  I  don't  know  why  I'm  so  anxious  about 

277 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  damned  mills,  anyway.  Royal  always  treated 
me  like  a  nigger — he  did  everybody  he  could  get 
under  his  thumb,  and  this  boy  seems  to  think  I'm 
part  of  the  property.  It  wasn't  for  either  of  them 
I  couldn't  meet  you  on  your  proposition  the  other 
day." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right!"  the  doctor  said. 

"I  shouldn't  care  if  Hawberk  came  out  with  the 
true  story  some  day.  But  I  don't  want  to  go  out 
side  of  my  job,  if  I  don't  have  to.  That's  all  there 
is  to  it.  I've  got  enough  to  do,  running  the  busi 
ness,  without  looking  for  trouble  with  Royal's 
ghost!" 

Anther  had  nothing  to  offer  on  this  point,  and  in 
the  country  fashion,  in  such  cases,  he  said  nothing 
at  all.  And  he  did  not  respond  in  any  wise  to  the 
long-drawn,  groaned-out  "We-e-ell!"  with  which 
John  Langbrith  got  himself  away,  as  a  form  of 
leave-taking.  He  had  been  gone  some  time  when 
Hawberk  came  in,  with  a  step  so  much  firmer  and 
quicker  than  Anther  had  known  it  for  a  long  time 
that  he  could  not  have  known  it  as  his. 

"Well,  Doct'  Anther,"  he  said,  briskly,  "have 
you  got  my  bottles  ready  for  me?" 

"I've  not  got  your  prescriptions  ready;  I  happen 
to  be  out  of  the  drugs,"  Anther  said,  with  a  return 
ing  sense  of  meaning  in  the  duty  which  had  lately 
seemed  so  purposeless,  and  a  rise  of  liking  for  Haw 
berk  in  the  place  of  his  reluctance  and  disgust.  He 
felt  the  charm  of  the  man,  which  he  had  never  quite 
ceased  to  feel,  though  it  had  been  dulled  by  long 
disappointment  with  him. 

278 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  Hawberk  said,  "but  I 
guess  we're  doing  the  business  for  that  green  fellow 
at  last.  I  always  did  know  what  he  was  when  he 
seemed  to  be  coming  at  me  by  the  thousand,  like 
your  reflection,  you  know,  when  you  stand  between 
a  couple  of  glasses.  That  got  to  be  a  great  trick  of 
his  one  while ;  but  he's  stopped  it  now.  Why,  Doct' 
Anther,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  sort  of  impersonal 
pleasure  in  a  fact  which  Anther  must  enjoy,  "I've 
got  so,  inside  of  the  last  forty-eight  hours,  that  I 
haven't  been  afraid  to  go  to  sleep.  He  still  keeps 
hanging  round,  but  he  seems  to  know  I'm  on  to 
him,  and  he  don't  try  any  of  his  old  jinks  with  me; 
just  comes  and  goes  to  let  me  know  he's  around, 
but  don't  make  any  particular  trouble.  Why,  doc 
tor,  just  to  try  myself,  one  day  this  week — day  be 
fore  yesterday,  I  guess  it  was — I  got  down  to  sixty 
drops  of  laudanum,  and  it  was  my  laudanum  day, 
too.  Don't  I  show  it — in  my  looks,  I  mean?" 

"Your  complexion  is  clearing  up.  But  go  slow, 
Hawberk,  even  when  you  are  going  in  the  direction 
of  my  instructions.  I  don't  want  you  to  tamper 
with  my  patient's  case." 

Hawberk  tasted  the  humor.  "Well,  I  won't, 
doctor;  I  won't,"  he  said,  and  he  laughed  in  the  free 
way  that  was  natural  to  him,  and  that  went  to  An 
ther's  heart. 

The  doctor  turned  a  little  grave,  though.  "How 
are  the  psychological  symptoms?  Do  you  see 
things,  generally,  as  you  have  been  seeing  them?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  do — everything.  There's  one 
thing  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about." 

279 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"That  house  you're  going  to  put  up  on  the  hill 
back  of  you?" 

Hawberk  smiled.  "  I  guess  that  can  wait  awhile." 
Then  he  said,  seriously,  "  You  know  Hope  and  Jim 
Langbrith  have  fixed  it  up  between  them?" 

"Yes,  Hope  told  me  this  morning.  I  had  heard 
of  it  before." 

11  Well,  that's  all  right.  He's  a  good  fellow,  and  I 
haven't  a  word  against  him.  I  don't  know  what  he's 
going  to  do  out  there  in  Paris,  but  I  presume  he 
does.  Anyway,  Hope  believes  in  it,  and  if  it  never 
comes  to  anything,  he's  got  money  enough  without 
it."  Hawberk's  face  clouded.  "  I  suppose  if  every 
thing  had  gone  right,  I  should  have  had  some  money, 
too.  That's  the  way  it  looks,  off  and  on.  I've  had 
times,  of  late,  very  curious  times,  Doct'  Anther, 
when  it  don't  seem  as  if  the  square  thing  had  been 
done  by  me.  Do  your  remember  the  circumstances 
of  my  leaving  the  mills?  I  ain't  clear,  myself." 

The  dawn  in  Hawberk's  mind  had  broken  sooner 
than  Anther  expected,  though  it  had  come  too  late 
for  any  purpose  of  his.  Now,  if  he  had  a  wish,  it 
must  have  been  to  darken  it.  When  he  thought 
how  he  would  have  once  exulted  in  it,  he  had  a  kind 
of  sickness  of  it;  but  his  duty  was  still  before  him. 
He  must  do  his  best  to  cure  his  patient.  As  a  physi 
cian,  he  could  have  no  other  concern;  but  he  could 
keep  himself  out  of  the  moral  consequences.  With 
these  he  had  nothing,  and  must  have  nothing,  to  do. 

"You'll  be  clear  enough  if  you  get  well,"  he  said. 
"All  the  facts  of  that  matter  are  something  you 
must  work  out  for  yourself.  I  wish  to  caution  you 

280 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

only  on  one  point.  You  must  be  very  careful  to 
verify  any  surmise  you  may  have.  I  should  urge 
you  not  to  speak  of  it  to  any  one  but  me.  You  can 
see  how,  under  the  present  circumstances,  it  could 
make  great  unhappiness  for  James  Langbrith,  and 
through  him,  for  Hope." 

"Yes,  I  see  that,  doctor.  I'm  not  speaking  of  it. 
As  I  say,  it's  something  that  comes  and  goes."  He 
added,  with  a  laugh,  "And  it  goes  full  as  much  as  it 
comes.  Well,"  he  rose  and  took  his  bottles  from 
Anther's  table,  "Emmering  put  these  up  for  me? 
You  ain't  afraid  we'll  get  our  heads  together  and 
make  'em  both  laudanum?" 

"I  guess  I  can  trust  you,"  the  doctor  answered, 
almost  absently. 

"Well,  I  guess  you're  right.  Anyway,  that  green 
fellow  has  got  the  job  of  watching  after  me,  and 
he's  on  the  lookout.  You've  weakened  on  the 
laudanum  a  little  this  time,  as  I  understand." 

"A  little." 

Anther's  absence  gained  upon  him  so  much  that 
he  scarcely  noticed  Hawberk's  going;  and  he  sat 
long  in  a  hapless  muse,  in  which  now  and  then  he 
smiled  in  self -derision.  If  the  situation  had  been 
contrived  by  the  sardonic  spirit  of  Royal  Lang 
brith  himself,  it  could  not  have  had  a  more  diaboli 
cal  perfection. 


XXX 

LIFE  is  never  the  logical  and  consequent  thing 
we  argue  from  the  moral  and  intellectuarpremises. 
There  ought  always  to  be  evident  reason  in  it;  but 
such  reason  as  it  has  is  often  crossed  and  obscured 
by  perverse  events,  which,  in  our  brief  perspective, 
give  it  the  aspect  of  a  helpless  craze.  Obvious  ef 
fect  does  not  follow  obvious  cause;  there  is  some 
times  no  perceptible  cause  for  the  effects  we  see. 
The  law  that  we  find  at  work  in  the  material  world 
is,  apparently,  absent  from  the  moral  world;  not, 
imaginably,  because  it  is  without  law,  but  because 
the  law  is  of  such  cosmical  vastness  in  its  operation 
that  it  is  only  once  or  twice  sensible  to  any  man's 
experience.  The  seasons  come  and  go  in  orderly 
course,  but  the  incidents  of  human  life  have  not  the 
orderly  procession  of  the  seasons ;  so  far  as  the  sages 
or  the  saints  are  able  convincingly  to  affirm,  they 
have  only  the  capricious  vicissitudes  of  weather. 

Anther  had  been  in  charge  of  Hawberk's  case  for 
twenty  years ;  and,  though  he  had  always  forbidden 
himself  to  despair  of  it,  he  had  long  ceased  to  hope 
for  any  final  cure.  He  was  used  to  changes  for  the 
better  and  changes  for  the  worse  in  Hawberk's 
habit,  and  to  the  psychological  consequences  when 
he  limited  his  indulgence  and  when  he  lapsed  again 

282 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

into  his  debauch.  Under  it  all,  though  the  man's 
character  was  deteriorated  or  ameliorated,  his  tem 
perament  remained  fundamentally  the  same,  and 
Anther  had  never  ceased  to  feel  his  gayety  and 
his  goodness,  which,  as  they  reappeared  in  Hope, 
charmed  and  deeply  touched  him.  Hawberk's  re 
covery  had  become  personally  indifferent  to  him, 
so  far  as  it  concerned  the  hopes  he  had  once  built 
upon  it;  but  the  girl's  joy  in  it  gave  poignancy  to 
the  fears  that  had  replaced  his  hopes.  In  a  rea 
sonable  forecast  of  the  effect,  Hawberk  must  return 
in  his  self -restoration  to  a  full  sense  of  the  reality 
concerning  the  wrong  done  him  by  Langbrith;  and 
in  place  of  the  delusion  he  had  promoted  in  the 
helpless  mendacity  of  his  habit,  he  must  know  and 
speak  the  truth.  There  had  already  been  hints  of 
such  an  eventuality ;  the  hints  that  sickened  Anther 
in  his  thought  of  the  time  when  he  would  have  wel 
comed  them,  and  that  made  him  tremble  for  the 
misery  which  the  truth  must  bring  upon  Hope, 
through  her  love  for  the  man  whose  father  had  so 
pitilessly  wronged  her  own.  Anther  had  believed 
that  he  wanted  justice  done.  This  had  been  his 
argument  with  Judge  Garley;  it  had  been  his  sug 
gestion  to  Dr.  Enderby.  It  ought  to  avail  him  in 
any  emergency,  but  now  it  did  not  avail  him,  and 
he  accused  himself  of  having  cared  for  the  truth 
only  in  his  own  interest,  as  the  truth  would  have 
promoted  it  with  Mrs.  Langbrith  against  her  son. 
What  did  avail  him  in  the  course  he  must  pursue 
was  his  sense  of  professional  duty;  amid  all  the 
moral  confusion,  that  was  clear.  He  ought  to  have 

283 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

no  question  but  of  the  recovery  of  his  patient,  arid 
he  tried  to  fix  his  mind  upon  this,  and  not  let  it 
stray  to  any  question  of  consequences.  He  did  his 
best  to  keep  his  study  of  the  case  physiological,  and 
not  to  concern  himself  with  those  psychological  as 
pects  which  Hawberk  himself  found  more  interest 
ing,  and  which  he  was  fond  of  turning  to  the  light 
in  his  visits  to  his  physician.  With  his  escape  from 
the  terrors  of  his  opium  nightmares,  he  found  a  phil 
osophic  pleasure  in  noting  facts  from  which  even  the 
physician  was  aware  of  shrinking. 

Once,  towards  the  end  of  summer,  when  they  had 
been  "taking  stock,"  as  Hawberk  called  it,  of  his 
symptoms,  and  he  was  exulting  in  the  reduction  of 
his  laudanum  to  the  equivalent  of  three  grains  of 
morphine  a  day,  he  said:  "The  most  curious  thing 
about  it  is  that  I  seem  to  be  doing  a  sort  of  Rip  Van 
Winkle  act,  and  waking  out  of  a  dream  of  twenty 
years  or  so.  It's  a  dream  that's  been  going  on 
steadily  all  the  while  that  those  little  one-horse 
nightmares  have  been  cavorting  round,  with  green 
dwarfs  on  their  backs,  and  playing  the  devil  gener 
ally;  and  this  steady  dream  has  had  a  good  genius 
in  it  that  I'm  beginning  to  have  my  doubts  about, 
now  that  I'm  waking  up.  It  seems  to  me  that  Royal 
Langbrith  wasn't  such  a  friend  of  mine  as  I've  been 
trying  to  make  out.  What  do  you  think?  Or  did 
I  put  this  up  on  you  once  before?" 

"Not  just  in  so  many  words." 

"Well,  I  wasn't  certain.  Royal  Langbrith  seems 
to  have  a  better  grip  as  a  good  genius  when  I've 
been  dipping  into  the  laudanum  pretty  freely  than 

284 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

he  does  when  I've  kept  to  the  medicine  and  the 
tonics.  I  have  my  ups  and  downs  about  him.  But 
what  do  you  think  of  him  in  the  capacity  of  a  good 
genius?" 

"As  I  told  you  before,  Hawberk,  that's  something 
you've  got  to  work  out  for  yourself." 

"  And  if  I've  worked  it  out  that  he  was  an  infernal 
scoundrel,  and  was  ready  to  say  so,  what  are  the 
chances  that  folks  would  believe  it?" 

"The  chances  would  be  against  you,  with  your 
past  as  an  opium-eater." 

"They  could  say  it  was  another  of  my  pipe- 
dreams?" 

"You  would  have  to  bring  the  strongest  sort  of 
proof." 

"With  everyone?" 

"What  makes  you  think  now  that  you  were  mis 
taken  about  him  before?" 

"Look  here,  Doct'  Anther,  what  do  you  think 
about  Royal  Langbrith?" 

Anther  suddenly  perceived  that  he  had  a  duty 
towards  Hawberk  not  contained  in  the  duty  of  a 
physician  to  his  patient :  the  duty  one  has  to  a  man 
whom  one  knows  to  have  been  wronged.  "I?"  he 
hesitated.  Then  he  plunged.  "I  think  he  was  an 
infernal  scoundrel!" 

Hawberk  laughed  queerly.  "Don't  you  know 
he  was?" 

"Yes,  I  know  he  was."  The  truth  was  open  be 
tween  them,  and  each  was  astonished  at  the  effect 
the  open  truth  had  on  himself. 

"What,"  Hawberk  parleyed,  with  a  smile  as  queer 
285 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

as  his  laugh,  "  should  you  say  we'd  ought  to  do 
about  it?" 

' '  I  don't  know, ' '  Anther  candidly  avowed .  ' '  Once 
I  should  have  known." 

"So  should  I."  And  now  Hawberk  roared  with 
pleasure.  "But  I  guess  that  devil  has  got  us  now. 
I've  seen  the  time  when  I  wanted  to  go  into  the 
cemetery  and  dig  him  up  and  burn  him,  but  I  don't 
know  as  I  do  now.  What  do  you  say,  Doct'  An 
ther  ?  Let  by-gones  be  by-gones,  as  the  fellow  said 
about  his  old  debts  when  he  started  in  to  make  some 
new  ones  ?  Still,  it  does  gravel  me  when  I  think  of 
that  tablet  in  the  front  of  the  library.  I  was  look 
ing  at  it  as  I  came  along  down.  Kind  of  pathetic, 
too,  when  you  think  of  Jim.  How  did  they  ever 
keep  him  in  the  dark  about  his  father?" 

"It  happened  naturally  enough.  It  rested  with 
his  mother;  and,  when  the  time  came  for  him  to 
know  the  facts,  the  time  for  her  to  tell  them  was 
past." 

"  I  see.  A  good  deal  as  it  is  with  me  now.  You 
might  almost  say  that  devil  had  planned  it  out  to 
have  his  boy  make  it  up  with  my  girl,  so  as  to  stop 
my  mouth  for  good  and  all.  First  off,  after  I  lost 
my  wife,  I  used  to  think  I  should  like  to  make  him 
suffer  for  the  lies  he  threatened  me  with.  I  wanted 
to  kill  him.  Well,  what's  the  use?  Somehow,  I 
don't  feel  that  way  now.  I  don't  want  to  revenge 
myself,  and  I  don't  believe  she'd  want  me  to  revenge 
her.  Curious!"  Hawberk  reflected,  with  a  pause, 
in  view  of  the  interesting  predicament.  After  a 
while  he  said,  "How  that  devil  must  have  chuckled 

286 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

when  he  saw  me  up  there,  with  the  other  leading 
citizens  that  day,  dedicating  that  tablet  to  his  mem 
ory!  But,  Doct'  Anther,  there's  something  I  can't 
get  through  me.  I  can  understand  why  /  should 
be  there.  /  was  game  for  anything,  when  I  was 
filled  up  with  laudanum;  but  I  don't  see  how  you 
came  to  be  celebrating  the  life,  death,  and  Christian 
sufferings  of  Royal  Langbrith.  Never  did  you  any 
harm,  did  he?" 

"Not  while  he  lived,"  Anther  said. 

1  *  Kind  of  fetched  you  a  back-hander  from  the 
grave  ?  Well,  I  don't  want  to  ask  you  what  it  was, 
but  I  should  like  to  ask  how  you  came,  knowing  all 
you  did  about  him,  to  let  Judge  Garley  and  Dr. 
Enderby  in  for  their  share  in  the  proceedings.  They 
any  notion  of  the  peculiar  virtues  of  the  deceased?" 

A  painful  flush  overspread  Anther's  face.  "I 
felt  it  my  duty  to  tell  Judge  Garley  as  soon  as  I 
found  that  the  scheme  had  taken  shape  in  James's 
mind,  and  he  held  the  legal  view  of  it.  He  was 
duly  warned,  and  I  have  nothing  to  blame  myself 
with  there.  I  don't  feel  so  easy  about  Dr.  Enderby. 
I  am  afraid  I  let  a  personal  motive  influence  me  in 
withholding  the  truth  from  him  until  it  was  prac 
tically  too  late  for  him  to  withdraw.  I  can't  decide 
how  much  he  wished  to  spare  me  in  arriving  at  the 
conclusion  he  did.  He  agreed  substantially  with 
Garley  that  no  good  could  come  of  exposing  Lang 
brith  at  this  late  day,  and  much  harm  might  come. 
Besides,  James  was  to  be  considered." 

"Ah!"  Hawberk  said.  "That's  where  /  come  in. 
What  about  James?  Hadn't  he  ought  to  know 

287 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

about  it?  Hadn't  I  ought  to  have  it  out  with  him 
before  he  marries  a  daughter  of  mine?" 

"Dr.  Enderby  thought  that  no  one  should  tell 
him  now ;  that  no  one  could,  without  interfering  with 
the  order  of  Providence,  without  forcing  God's  pur 
poses,  as  he  put  it.  The  truth  could  come  out  fully 
only  when  it  could  come  out  naturally,  necessarily, 
inevitably." 

Hawberk  fetched  a  long,  deep  sigh  of  relief. 
"Well,  that  lets  me  out.  I  was  feeling  my  way 
in  that  direction,  I  guess.  I  guess  Doct'  Enderby  is 
right.  Any  rate,  I'm  going  to  let  the  thing  rest  for 
the  present.  I'm  satisfied  with  what  I've  got.  It 
wouldn't  help  me  any,  and  it  wouldn't  help  Hope, 
if  the  whole  thing  was  out.  Let  the  damned  thing 
be,  /  say,  and  that's  what  I  understand  Doct'  En 
derby  says:  maybe  not  just  in  the  same  words.  I 
don't  know  as  I  should  exactly  want  Hope  to  marry 
Jim  Langbrith,  without  he  had  been  told  something 
about  it  —  say  enough  to  understand  that  there 
wa'n't  any  flies  on  me  when  I  was  put  out.  That's 
only  fair  to  Hope ;  I  don't  care  for  myself.  But  if 
there's  an  order  of  Providence,  I'm  willing  to  wait 
for  the  procession.  Yes,  I'm  willing  to  wait  and 
see  if  there  is  any  procession.  If  there  ain't,  it'll 
be  time  enough  to  start  one.  Well,  Doct'  Anther," 
Hawberk  said,  putting  out  his  hand  to  the  doctor 
as  he  rose,  "  I  don't  want  to  holler  before  I'm  out  of 
the  woods,  but  as  far  as  I'm  a  judge,  you've  saved 
me,  body  and  soul.  I  don't  know  how  you  feel, 
but  I  should  be  glad  to  swap  my  feelings  for  yours, 
whatever  they  are.  Yes,"  and  Hawberk  broke 

288 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

down  with  his  laugh  from  the  height  of  sentiment 
he  had  reached;  "I  don't  know  but  I'd  be  willing 
to  swap  Royal  Langbrith's  feelings  for  yours,  this 
minute." 

Anther  could  not  refuse  to  join  in  his  laugh,  but 
he  felt  it  right  to  put  in  a  word  of  caution.  "We 
mustn't  brag  about  your  case.  But  I'll  say  that 
I've  hopes  of  you  that  I  never  had  before.  It  now 
rests  with  you,  mainly.  If  we  pull  through  togeth 
er,  I'll  be  glad  to  swap  feelings  with  you.  We  won't 
say  anything  about  Langbrith;  he  mightn't  be  will 
ing  to  trade." 

"Not  without  some  boot,  you  may  bet,"  Haw- 
berk  shouted,  with  supreme  joy  in  the  joke,  as  he 
went  out  of  the  doctor's  door,  where  the  doctor 
stood  looking  after  him,  not  unhappy  for  himself, 
as  he  ought  logically  to  have  been  in  contrasting  his 
hopeless  life  with  the  life  that  was  beginning  anew 
so  hopefully  for  Hawberk,  and  with  something  of 
the  peace  that  passes  understanding  in  his  heart. 


XXXI 

JOHN  LANGBRITH  continued  to  talk  of  going  away. 
Upon  the  inspiration  of  meeting  an  old  acquaint 
ance  whom  he  asked  where  he  had  been  keeping 
himself  of  late,  and  who  answered  that  he  had  been 
in  Japan,  John  Langbrith  began  to  think  of  going 
round  the  world,  as  a  little  experimental  journey, 
since  a  man  could  go  to  Japan  and  back  without 
being  noticed.  He  asked  Anther  what  he  thought 
of  circumnavigating  the  globe  as  a  remedy  for  ner 
vous  dyspepsia,  and  the  doctor  told  him  he  did  not 
think  it  would  be  bad.  Then  John  Langbrith  said 
he  had  half  a  notion  to  go  out  to  Paris,  and  see 
James ;  there  had  never  been  much  affection  between 
them,  but  John  Langbrith  considered  that  James 
could  get  him  a  comfortable  boarding-place,  where 
he  could  stay  while  he  was  picking  out  some  German 
spring  to  go  to  more  permanently.  He  asked  An 
ther  if  he  did  not  think  some  of  those  German  springs 
would  be  good  for  him.  Again  Anther  said  that  he 
did  not  think  it  would  be  bad ;  and  this  suggested 
giving  Saratoga  a  trial.  John  Langbrith  could  go  to 
Saratoga  for  a  week  before  the  season  ended,  and  he 
shaped  his  business  so  that  he  could  put  it  in  the 
hands  of  a  young  subordinate,  with  instructions  to 
reach  him  by  telegraph  if  needed,  for  he  could  re- 

290 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

turn  at  a  second's  notice ;  and  he  actually  went.  At 
Saratoga  he  drank  impartially  of  all  the  waters,  at 
all  hours  of  the  day,  without  regard  to  diet,  and  came 
home  worse,  if  anything,  than  he  went,  but  somehow 
with  a  sense  of  renewed  energy. 

He  took  hold  with  so  much  force  that,  before  the 
snow  flew,  he  had,  as  he  phrased  it  to  Anther,  got 
round  to  a  little  back  of  where  he  started.  Then 
the  doctor  indulged  a  sentiment  of  something  like 
poetic  justice,  in  suggesting  a  means  of  relief  for 
John  Langbrith  from  one  side  of  his  work,  and  of 
benefit  for  another  patient. 

"Why  don't  you  split  up  your  responsibility?'* 
he  asked.  "  Shoulder  the  business  half  yourself, 
and  let  Hawberk  look  after  the  manufacturing.  He 
needs  something  to  help  keep  him  out  of  mischief, 
and  he  is  able  now  to  take  hold  of  the  paper-making 
and  run  it  as  well  as  ever  he  did.  He  hasn't  for 
gotten  how  to  use  his  own  inventions,  I  guess." 

John  Langbrith' s  jaundiced  eyes  emitted  a  yellow 
light  of  appreciative  relish.  "Lord!  Make  Royal 
turn  in  his  grave — what  there's  left  of  him  to  turn! 
Do  you  mean  to  say  you  could  put  any  dependence 
on  Hawberk?'* 

"Why  not?  It  would  be  merely  a  mechanical 
exercise  of  his  faculties,  and  it  would  occupy  him 
and  keep  his  mind  off  the  opium." 

"Lord!"  John  Langbrith  said  again;  and  after  a 
moment's  muse  he  said,  "Send  him  round,"  and  so 
took  himself  away  with  a  galvanic  activity  that  sup 
ported  him  in  his  automatic  progress  towards  the 
mills. 

291 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Hawberk  had  much  the  same  sardonic  pleasure 
as  Langbrith  had  shown  at  the  notion  of  his  being 
reinstated  in  his  old  charge ;  but  it  was  sweetened  to 
something  better  by  the  virtues  of  temperament  in 
him.  "Now,  Hope,"  he  bade  his  daughter,  after 
the  first  day's  experiment  had  justified  the  confi 
dence  with  which  he  entered  on  his  work,  "you 
write  to  James  about  this.  He'll  like  to  hear  about 
it,  and  he'll  like  to  hear  about  it  from  you.  And 
you  tell  him  it  was  Doct'  Anther's  idea.  He'd 
ought  to  like  that,  too,  and  the  doc  tor 'd  ought  to 
have  the  credit  of  it,  anyway.  If  I  should  make  a 
slump,  later  on,  I'll  take  the  credit  of  that.  But  I 
guess  there  ain't  going  to  be  any  slump." 

The  few  spectators  of  Hawberk' s  experiment  who 
could  witness  it  with  a  fully  comprehensive  intelli 
gence  of  the  case  regarded  it  according  to  their  re 
spective  natures.  To  the  community  at  large,  it 
had  the  interest  of  something  miraculous — some 
thing  between  rising  from  the  dead  and  returning 
cured  from  an  inebriate  asylum.  If  anything  could 
have  rendered  Hawberk  a  more  dramatically  nota 
ble  member  of  society  than  he  had  been  as  an  opium 
eater  of  twenty-five  years'  standing,  it  was  his  novel 
quality  of  reformed  opium-eater.  This  gave  him  a 
claim  upon  the  wonder  of  every  stranger  who  came 
to  Saxmills,  and  it  conferred  the  right  on  every  citi 
zen  to  point  him  out  to  the  sojourn er  in  his  going  and 
coming.  The  fascination  of  the  fact  extended  itself 
to  Hope,  when  she  happened  to  be  seen,  and  to  the 
house  where  the  Hawberks  lived. 

The  general  belief  was  that  the  thing  would  not 

292 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

last;  and  this  was  the  particular  belief  of  Judge 
Garley,  who  owned  his  scepticism  to  Dr.  Anther, 
with  some  tendency  to  an  amiable  criticism  of  An 
ther's  share  in  the  affair.  He  had  seen  so  little  of 
reform,  in  his  acquaintance  with  the  law,  he  said, 
that  he  was  shy  of  it  wherever  he  saw  it.  But  he 
was  willing  to  give  it  time ;  it  never  took  much  time. 
Perhaps,  though,  he  suggested,  this  was  a  case  not 
so  much  under  the  law  as  under  the  gospel.  If  that 
was  so,  he  would  like  to  know  if  the  doctor  really 
believed  in  the  supernatural. 

"No,"  Anther  said,  "only  in  the  natural."  And 
this  was,  substantially,  the  answer  which  he  opposed 
to  Mrs.  Enderby's  secret  wistfulness  regarding  a 
fact  which  she  beheld  as  with  clasped  hands,  uncer 
tain  how,  as  a  church-woman,  she  ought  to  feel  tow 
ards  miracles  post-dating  those  of  Scripture.  She 
would  have  liked  to  feel  the  hand  of  God  in  the  tardy 
and  partial  retribution  of  a  man  cruelly  wronged; 
and  it  is  doubtful  if  she  thought  the  rector  quite 
level  with  his  spiritual  opportunities  in  his  prefer 
ence  of  Dr.  Anther's  theory,  that  the  unexpected 
was  one  of  the  things  always  to  be  looked  for  in  the 
practice  of  medicine.  What  measurably  consoled 
her  was  the  tender  seriousness  of  her  husband  in 
the  whole  matter — the  brotherly  affection  which  he 
showed  Hawberk  in  the  relation  which  he  was  able 
to  form  with  him,  as  a  man  doing  a  man's  part  in 
the  world's  work  after  long  uselessness,  and  the 
delicacy  with  which  he  forbore  to  recognize  that 
there  was  anything  novel  in  this  performance  of 
duty  by  Hawberk.  She  was  peculiarly  touched 

293 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

when  he  proposed  that  they  should  have  Hope  and 
her  father  to  supper,  and  she  promised  that  she 
should  be  forever  ashamed  that  she  had  let  her  hus 
band  think  of  it  first. 

Mrs.  Enderby  atoned,  as  far  as  she  could,  by  ask 
ing  Mrs.  Langbrith  and  Dr.  Anther,  but  neither  of 
them  could  come,  and  she  wasn't  sorry  that  they 
had  the  Hawberks  alone;  with  retrospective  pre-' 
vision  she  perceived  that  anything  else  would  have 
been  overdoing  it.  She  found  Hawberk  very  enter 
taining.  He  talked  frankly  of  getting  back  to  his 
old  work  in  the  mill,  and  he  tried  to  make  her  un 
derstand  an  invention  he  had  hopes  of  perfecting 
for  the  "Dandy  Roll,"  as  he  called  it,  so  that  the 
water-marking  of  paper  could  be  done  at  an  im 
mense  saving  of  time  and  money.  He  explained 
to  her  that  the  words,  or  designs,  to  be  water-marked 
had  now  to  be  put  in  by  hand  with  bits  of  fine  wire, 
and  sewed  on  a  cylinder  with  fine  metallic  thread; 
but  he  was  trying  to  make  a  Dandy  Roll  on  which 
the  design  could  be  changed  as  easily  as  if  it  were  a 
section  of  type  in  a  printer's  form.  It  was  very 
luminous  while  he  talked,  but  it  all  faded  away  after 
wards,  and  left  in  Mrs.  Enderby 's  intelligence  only 
the  words  "Dandy  Roll,"  which  had  a  queer  fasci 
nation,  together  with  a  sense  of  Hawberk 's  dignity 
and  enthusiasm  about  it. 

Hope  was  gay,  as  always ;  but  it  seemed  to  Mrs. 
Enderby  that  she  was  not  so  gay  as  she  had  some 
times  seen  her,  when  she  had  far  less  reason  to  be 
so.  There  was  a  shadow  of  anxiety  in  her  beauty 
which  Mrs.  Enderby  wondered  never  to  have  found 

294 


THE   SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

there  before,  and  a  sound  of  anxiety  in  her  lovely 
tones  unheard  before.  She  thought  she  could  see 
the  girl  closely  following  all  her  father  did  and  said ; 
but  perhaps  it  was  only  the  effect  in  her  of  hopes 
not  cherished  till  now,  naturally  betraying  them 
selves  in  anxieties.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Hope  had 
no  reason  to  feel  anything  but  joy  in  her  father's 
restoration  to  his  old  usefulness.  There  was  no 
poison  of  a  gratified  vengeance  in  her  heart,  for  it 
was  agreed  almost  tacitly  between  Hawberk  and 
Anther  that  no  good  could  come  of  her  knowing, 
for  the  present  at  least,  the  outrage  of  the  past. 
"Time  enough,"  her  father  had  gone  so  far  as  to 
say,  "for  Hope  to  be  brought  into  all  that  when  we 
see  that  it's  got  to  come  out  generally.  I  don't 
know  as  I  should  feel  just  right  about  letting  her 
keep  on  with  Jim,  if  she  was  one  to  blame  a  man 
for  what  she  has  to  suffer  instead  of  for  what  he 
has  done.  Any  rate,  till  we  see  our  way  to  telling 
Jim,  I  guess  we'd  better  keep  dark  with  Hope, 
heigh?" 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  full  mind  of  Dr. 
Anther,  he  assented  to  Hawberk's  decision,  though 
he  had  to  hold  to  it  against  counter  reasoning  that 
searched  his  deeper  nature  or  his  complexer  con 
science.  It  was  not  finally  strange  to  him  that 
this  reasoning  should  have  come  from  one  whose 
peace  was  more  intimately  involved  than  that  of 
any  one  but  Hope  herself.  Anther  must  long  ago, 
if  it  had  not  been  for  his  tenderness  of  her,  have 
owned  that  Mrs.  Langbrith  had  shown  a  moral  cow 
ardice  concerning  her  son,  which  was  hardly  less 

295 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

than  a  culpable  weakness;  but  he  defended  her  to 
himself,  because  he  perceived  that  weakness  could 
never  be  culpable.  He  might  as  well  blame  any  of 
the  feeble  creatures  which  she  made  him  think  of 
for  not  being  strong,  and  he  was  not  ready  with  praise 
for  the  unexpected  force  wrhich  she  showed,  where 
he  took  her  weakness  for  granted.  He  merely  re 
flected  that  he  had  not  taken  into  account  the  pity 
of  women  for  women,  when  one  of  them  has  been 
able  t©  put  herself  perfectly  in  another's  place,  and 
to  ignore  in  behalf  of  their  sex's  helplessness  the 
other  claims  of  nature.  A  sense  of  this  awed  him 
at  Mrs.  Langbrith's  refusal  to  acquiesce  in  Haw- 
berk's  notion  of  what  was  best  to  be  done  in  regard 
to  Hope.  At  first,  she  had  seemed  to  acquiesce  in 
it,  as  something  that  superiorly  concerned  the 
father  and  the  daughter.  Then  one  day,  suddenly, 
she  went  to  Anther,  and,  not  finding  him,  she  left  a 
message  of  peremptory  entreaty  for  him;  and  they 
found  themselves  together,  in  the  early  falling  twi 
light  of  an  autumn  day,  in  the  dim  parlor  where  their 
middle-aged  drama  had  already  seemed  to  play  it 
self  out. 

"I  can't  let  this  go  on,  Dr.  Anther,"  she  said, 
traversing  any  pretense  of  greeting  between  them 
when  he  appeared.  "Mr.  Hawberk  is  making  a 
mistake.  Hope  ought  to  know.  She  ought  to  be 
told.  James  is  his  father's  son.  He  may  be  like 
him.  He  may  make  his  wife  suffer  what  his  father 
made  me  suffer.  How  do  we  know  what  he  is  doing 
there  in  Paris,  now?" 

She  was  a  woman  of  few  words,  and  in  these  few 

296 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

she  had  compacted  her  suspicions,  her  reasons,  her 
conclusions;  and,  though  she  pressed  them  upon 
Anther  with  hysterical  nervousness,  he  had  to  re 
spect  the  sense  there  was  in  them,  as  well  as  the 
anguish  there  was  behind  them. 

He  could  only  parley,  for  a  beginning.  "He  is 
your  son,  too,  Amelia." 

"And  what  if  he  is?"  she  retorted.  "What  is 
me  in  him  will  be  crushed  out  by  what  is  him  in 
him,"  and  Anther  saw  that  she  had  thought  it  bet 
ter  than  she  could  speak  it,  though  but  for  her  erring 
grammar  it  was  spoken  well  enough. 

He  said,  "  I  should  not  fear  for  her  in  her  marriage 
with  James.  She  is  a  stronger  character  than  he." 

"That  was  what  I  said  when  I  began  to  think  of 
it.  But  the  weakest  man  can  make  the  strongest 
woman  suffer  things  worse  than  death;  and  I  don't 
care  whether  there  would  be  any  suffering  or  not. 
There  would  be  wrong.  She  has  a  right  to  know. 
Her  father  has  no  right  to  keep  her  from  knowing. 
Why,  it's  wicked!  What  will  she  think,  what  will 
he  say  if  she  doesn't  find  it  out  till  afterwards?" 

"He  can  say  that  he  didn't  know  himself.  She 
will  not  blame  him,  at  any  rate." 

"That  isn't  enough.  She  has  got  to  have  the 
right  to  say  now  she  will  not  marry  the  son  of  such 
a  man.  Will  you  tell  her  ?" 

Anther  reflected.  "  No,  Amelia,"  he  said,"  I  don't 
think  that  I  will  tell  her." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  have  only  the  relation  of  her  father's 
physician  to  her.  If  I  could  have  had  another  re- 
297 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

lation  to  her,"  and  Mrs.  Langbrith  winced  at  the 
implication,  so  that  he  felt  sorry  for  it,  "I  might 
have  been  justified  in  telling  her.  As  it  is,  I  don't," 

1  'Well,  then,"  Mrs.  Langbrith  said,  desperately, 
"I  will  tell  her." 

"  Before  you  tell  him?" 

The  question  daunted  her;  it  was  necessary,  but 
he  realized  its  cruelty  as  well  as  its  necessity.  She 
gasped  inarticulately;  the  unfailing  tears  started 
into  her  eyes.  She  had,  as  he  saw,  reached  the 
limit  of  her  small  strength.  It  must  be  days  or 
weeks,  possibly  months,  before  she  could  gather 
force  for  a  new  effort. 

Anther  tried  to  say  something  consoling  to  her; 
he  succeeded  only  in  saying  something  compassion 
ate,  which  did  not  avail.  "You  have  taken  away 
my  chance,"  she  said,  and  he  would  not  take  from 
her  the  slight  stay  she  found  in  her  resentment. 


XXXII 

ANTHER  noted  in  himself,  with  curious  interest, 
the  accomplished  adjustment  of  the  spirit  to  cir 
cumstances  that  once  seemed  impossible,  and  the 
acceptance  of  conditions  which  before  had  been  in 
tolerable.  He  had  gone  on  to  the  end  of  a  certain 
event,  strongly  willing  and  meaning  something 
which  then  he  no  longer  willed  or  meant.  With  a 
sense  of  acquiescent  surprise  he  found  himself  at 
peace  with  desires  and  purposes  that  had  long  afflict 
ed  him  with  unrest,  and  it  was  not  they,  apparently, 
that  differed,  but  himself.  To  the  young  "this  will 
be  a  mystery,  but  to  those  no  longer  young  it  will 
be  of  the  quality  of  many  experiences  which,  if  still 
mysterious,  are  not  more  so  than  the  whole  texture 
of  existence. 

He  had  foregone  a  hope  that  had  seemed  essential 
to  his  life,  but  that,  once  foregone,  was  like  other 
things  outlived — like  something  of  years  ago,  of  his 
early  manhood,  almost  of  his  boyhood.  He  was 
still  baffled  and  disappointed,  but  he  perceived  that 
he  did  not  care,  did  not  suffer,  as  he  supposed  he 
should  care  and  suffer.  It  was  his  compensation 
that  what  was  ignoble  in  his  regret  was  gone  from 
it.  Neither  resentment  nor  the  selfish  sense  of  loss 
tinged  it.  Primarily,  his  regret  was  hardly  for  him- 

299 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

self;  and  he  perceived  that,  so  far  as  it  concerned 
another,  it  was  mixed  with  a  sense  of  escape  from 
anxiety,  from  fears  which  the  fulfilment  of  his  hopes 
would  have  perpetuated.  He  realized  more  and 
more  that  he  had  been  having  to  do  with  weakness, 
and  he  realized  this  not  in  contempt  of  weakness, 
but  in  the  compassion  which  was  the  constant  les 
son  of  his  calling.  He  blamed  Mrs.  Langbrith,  in 
her  shrinking  from  collision  with  her  son's  will,  no 
more  than  he  would  have  blamed  any  timorous 
creature  for  seeking  to  shun  a  physical  ordeal  to 
which  it  was  unequal.  He  had,  at  least,  learned 
patience  and  mercy  from  his  acquaintance  with 
disease;  and  he  had  learned  to  distinguish  between 
what  was  disease  and  what  was  an  innate  fault  which 
no  drugs,  either  for  the  soul  or  body,  could  medicine. 
What  surprised  him  and,  when  it  first  suggested 
itself,  shocked  him,  was  a  sort  of  reason,  which  was 
not  an  excuse,  for  Royal  Langbrith  in  the  defect 
which  he  realized.  Given  such  a  predatory  nature 
as  his,  was  it  not  in  the  order  of  things  that  there 
should  be  another  nature  formed  for  his  prey  ?  Must 
not  the  very  helplessness  of  his  victim  have  been  the 
irresistible  lure  of  his  cruelty  ?  We  are  not  masters 
of  those  vagaries,  good  or  evil,  that  fill  the  mind 
after  its  disoccupation  by  direct  purposes ;  and  An 
ther  did  not  seriously  blame  himself  for  their  wild 
play.  He  broke  this  up  and  banished  the  vagaries 
sometimes  by  calling  to  his  help  things  that  he 
ought  to  think  of,  or  by  confronting  them  with  the 
woman  they  wronged  and  so  rendered  the  more  ten 
derly  dear  to  him. 

300 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

She  was,  in  fact,  never  more  tenderly  dear  to  him 
than  now,  when  he  had  abandoned  the  hope,  almost 
the  wish,  of  making  her  his  wife.  She  had  been  a 
wife  long  ago,  and  yet  he  began  to  feel  a  sort  of 
profanation  in  the  idea  of  making  her  a  wife.  The 
time  came  when  Anther  wondered  whether  he  had 
ever  really  felt  a  passion  for  her,  such  as  even  in 
middle  life  a  man  may  feel  for  a  woman,  and  wheth 
er,  in  that  embrace  into  which  they  had  once  been 
surprised,  there  was  any  love  other  than  the  affec 
tion  of  a  brother  and  sister,  drawn  heart  to  heart  in 
a  moment  of  supreme  emotion.  At  such  a  time  he 
made  entire  excuse  for  James  Langbrith,  and  ac- 

|  counted  for  him  as  forgivingly  as  for  her.  If  her 
son  had  instinctively  the  feeling  which  had  tardily 
worked  itself  out  in  Anther's  consciousness,  then, 
surely,  it  was  not  the  son  whom  he  could  blame. 

I  One  hints  at  cognitions  which  refuse  anything  more 
positive  than  intimation,  and  which  can  have  no 
proof  in  the  admissions  of  those  who  deal  convention 
ally  with  their  own  consciences.  It  was  because  An 
ther  was  not  one  of  these  that  he  was  a  nature  of  ex 
ceptional  type,  and  because  he  could  accept  the 
logic  of  his  self-knowledge  that  he  was  a  character 
of  rare  strength.  He  was  strong  enough  not  only  to 
forgive  the  frantic  boy  who  had  insulted  and  out 
raged  him  in  his  pain,  but  to  feel  a  share  in  the 
error  which  had  kept  him  in  ignorance  of  the  truth. 
It  was  not  the  less  his  right  to  know  this  because 
there  had  never  been  the  moment  to  make  it  known 
to  him.  Anther  realized  that  the  boy  had  been 
deeply  injured,  and  he  accepted  his  own  share  of 

301 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

the  retribution  as  the  just  penalty  of  his  share  in 
the  error.  He  saw,  too  late,  that  it  was  his  weak 
ness  not  to  have  overruled  the  weakness  which  he 
spared  the  supreme  ordeal.  He  promised  himself, 
somehow,  sometime,  to  make  good  to  James  Lang- 
brith  the  wrong  he  had  suffered. 

In  this  self -promise,  after  the  experience  which 
had  stirred  his  life  to  its  depths,  he  found  a  limpid 
peace  from  which  his  dream  of  passion  hung  re- 
treatingly  aloof,  like  a  cloud  broken  and  drifting 
away.  He  had  a  gayety  of  heart  for  which  he  did 
not  logically  account,  but  in  which  he  felt  the  power 
of  consoling  and  supporting  the  weakness  he  had 
once  imagined  protecting  through  a  husband's 
rights.  When  he  first  saw  Mrs.  Langbrith  after  his 
tacit  renunciation,  much  more  real  than  that  ex 
plicit  renunciation  which  preceded  it,  he  was  aware 
of  an  apprehension  in  her  which  it  was  not  for  words 
to  quiet.  By  what  he  forbore,  he  must  make  her 
know  that  he  had  ceased  to  think  of  her  as  he  had 
thought,  and  that  she  was  as  safe  from  the  pursuit 
of  what  had  been  his  love  as  from  the  reproach 
which  he  would  never  join  her  in  making  herself. 

They  talked  of  Hope  and  Langbrith,  and  of  the 
reason  there  was  in  believing  that  it  might  be  safe 
for  the  girl  to  trust  her  father  to  himself,  if  James 
wished  it,  before  very  long.  Mrs.  Langbrith  did 
not  know  directly  of  her  son's  plans  and  purposes. 
Apparently,  the  communication  between  them  was 
formal  and  restricted,  and  she  spoke  of  what  was 
in  her  mind  rather  because  of  the  girl  than  of  him. 
In  an  involuntary  measurement  of  her  interest  with 

302 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

his  own,  it  appeared  to  Anther  that  it  was  he  who 
was  the  more  concerned  for  James  Langbrith;  and 
it  was  with  surprise  that  he  saw  she  really  did  not 
understand  him  at  first  when  he  said,  "  I  wish  he 
could  be  assured  that,  when  he  comes  home,  there 
will  be  no  question  of  its  being  the  same  home  to 
him  that  it  has  always  been." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  returned. 

"I  really  believe  you  don't,"  he  said,  musingly, 
with  his  unselfish  gaze  on  her.  "Well,"  he  ex 
plained,  "that  he  need  not  be  afraid  of  my  making 
a  difference  in  it." 

"Oh!"  she  evaded  whatever  challenge  she  might 
have  fancied  in  the  words,  "he  will  have  a  home  of 
his  own.  Dr.  Anther,"  she  continued,  "I  don't 
know  what  you'll  think  of  me,  but  I  don't  feel  the 
same  towards  James  that  I  used  to.  I  can't  make 
it  out,  exactly,  but  should  you  think  it  was  wicked 
if  I  had  changed  so  that  I  did  not  care  for  him  so 
much?  When  I  was  a  child  I  was  that  way,  if 
ever  they  made  me  do  what  I  didn't  want  to  do, 
and  didn't  make  me  see  the  reason.  I  remember 
it  about  my  mother  once,  when  I  was  quite  little. 
I  had  to  do  what  she  made  me,  but  after  that  she 
wasn't  the  same  to  me.  It  is  so  with  James,  now. 
He  is  not  the  same  to  me.  I  don't  want  to  punish 
him  for  it,  but  he  is  not  the  same.  I  don't  know 
whether  I  explain  it." 

"Yes,  I  think  you  do." 

"And  do  you  blame  me?" 

"  No,  but  I  think  you  may  change  again  towards 
him."  She  shook  her  head  doubtfully.  "You're 

303 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

one  of  those  who  need  to  get  back  their  strength 
when  they  have  been  tried." 

His  pitying  intelligence  was  very  sweet  to  her. 
"  If  I  tried  to  say  what  I  though  of  you — "  she 
began. 

''Don't  try,"  he  said,  simply,  and  she  did  not. 

She  said:  " I  don't  like  to  think  how  you  have  to 
live  there  in  that  way,  taking  your  meals  out,  and 
your  house  so  uncomfortable." 

"Is  it  uncomfortable?  I  don't  notice  those 
things  very  much.  I  like  going  to  the  hotel;  it 
gives  variety,  and  it  seems  to  me  I  don't  get  things 
so  cold  as  I  did  with  Mrs.  Burwell." 

She  gave  a  house-keeper's  sigh  of  compassion,  but 
she  said,  from  a  higher  feeling,  "I  know  why  you 
bought  it." 

"  Yes,  I  told  you.     But  that's  all  past  now." 

"Why  is  it  past?"  she  demanded,  almost  resent 
fully.  "Do  you  think  I've  changed  towards  you, 
too,  Dr.  Anther?" 

"  No,  I  don't,  Amelia.  I  believe  you're  just  what 
you  always  were  towards  me." 

"Then,  if  it's  all  past,  as  you  say,  it  must  be  you 
that  have  changed." 

"  No.     I  am  the  same,  too." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  wistfulness  which  he 
knew  to  be  entreaty  of  him  for  that  strength  to 
give  herself  to  him  which  she  did  not  feel  in  her 
own  will. 

"  If  you  say  so,"  she  tried  her  courage,  "  I  will  do 
it  now — to-morrow — to-day,  if  you  say  so.  I  told 
you  that  James  took  back  what  he  said;  that  he 

3°4 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

was  willing.  At  any  rate,  what  is  the  use?  He 
can  never  feel  right  to  me  after  this,  no  matter  what 
I  do.  I  know  him — he  can't  forgive  the  hurt  to 
his  pride." 

"  It  was  a  hurt  to  something  better  than  his  pride," 
Anther  said,  justly. 

"  No  matter.  It's  something  he  can't  forgive  me 
and  I  don't  care.  You're  more  than  James  is,  and 
now  he  doesn't  want  me — he  won't  need  me.  If 
you  ask  me  now  to  marry  you,  I  will." 

He  believed  that  he  saw  in  her  the  little  max 
imum  of  her  force,  which  perhaps  spent  itself  in  the 
words  and  would  have  nothing  left  for  the  deed. 
The  deed  must  be  altogether  his.  In  the  sweetness 
that  welled  up  in  his  soul  from  the  consciousness  :of 
perfectly  comprehending,  not  her  intention  merely, 
but  her  nature,  he  was  happier  than  the  fulfilment 
of  his  hopes  could  once  have  made  him. 

"  Do  you  say  that,  Amelia,  because  you  wish  it  or 
because  you  think  I  do?" 

"I  want  to  do  everything  that  you  want  me  to." 

"Then  I  don't  want  you  to  do  this,  my  dear.  I 
know  you  will  understand  me.  I  don't  believe  we 
ought  to  get  married." 

' '  Because  James —  ?' ' 

"He  has  nothing  to  do  with  it  now.  Because 
we  can  be  more  to  each  other  if  we  remain  as  we 
are." 

She  looked  bewilderedly  at  him,  but  he  believed 
that  he  saw  in  her  the  relief  that  weakness  intimates 
to  one  who  forbears  demand  upon  it.  She  had  ful 
filled  her  impulse,  and  spent  all  her  force  on  it. 

305 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    L\NGBRITH 

She  was  not  hurt,  either  in  her  vanity  or  affection. 
He  could  see,  indeed,  that  she  trusted  him  too  en 
tirely  for  such  an  effect. 

"Then,"  she  said,  in  simple  abeyance  to  his  judg 
ment,  "will  you  let  me  do  anything  for  you  that  I 
think  you  need?" 

"  What  is  there  that  I  need  ?"  he  parried  her  ques 
tion.  "  I  am  very  well  as  I  am.  I  assure  you  that 
I  am  quite  as  I  wish  to  be.  I  don't  feel  what  seems 
to  you  discomfort,  and  after  this  understanding, 
that  has  no  misunderstanding  in  it,  I  shall  feel  hap 
pier  about  you  than  I  have  ever  felt.  If  I  didn't 
believe  you  would  rather  live  your  life  alone,  or  if 
I  could  believe  you  wanted  me  to  join  mine  with  it 
for  any  help  I  could  give,  you  know  I  would  make 
you  do  what  you  have  offered  to  let  me.  But  I  be 
lieve  the  one  thing,  and  I  don't  believe  the  other.  I 
know  you're  wanting  to  put  yourself  under  my  will 
— to  sacrifice  yourself  to  me." 

"No!" 

"Yes,  it  is  so.  If  you  ever  want  my  help  or 
counsel  or  friendship,  you  know  it  is  always  here 
for  you,  as  fully  and  freely  as  if  I  were  your  hus 
band — perhaps  more  so.  At  any  rate,  I  should  not 
exact  anything  in  return,  for  I  need  nothing!" 

"  But  if  you  ever  do  need  anything — me  or  any 
thing  I  can  do — will  you  promise — promise — " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  will  ask  you.     I  promise  you  that." 

Nothing  seems  final  in  human  experience,  and 
neither  of  these  two  who  now  parted  really  accepted 
the  conclusion  to  which  they  had  come  as  the  last 
word  in  their  affair.  It  was  to  be  held  in  that  sort 

306 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

of  solution  in  which  all  human  affairs  are  held,  until 
that  happens  which  can  alone  precipitate  them. 
She  went  on  with  the  life  to  which  alone  she  was, 
perhaps,  equal.  She  was,  at  any  rate,  inveterately 
used  to  its  abnegations,  if  they  were  abnegations; 
and  he  did  the  daily  duties  which  were  always  full 
of  interest  and  had  the  variety  which  keeps  men 
from  stagnating.  He  had  not  falsely  pretended 
that  he  liked  meeting  the  new  people  he  met  at  the 
hotel,  and  he  was  richer  in  old  companionships  than 
most  men  of  his  age.  The  new  people,  it  must  be 
confessed,  were  oftenest  the  commercial  travellers 
whose  enterprises  brought  them  to  Saxmills.  But, 
to  a  man  who  took  other  men  as  unconventionally 
as  he  offered  himself,  they  were  less  typical  and  more 
personal  than  they  are  in  common  acceptance.  The 
younger  ones  might  be  noisy  in  manner,  and  over- 
jocular  with  one  another  at  table  and  in  the  hotel 
office,  where  Anther  sometimes  paused  for  a  mo 
ment  of  digestion  after  his  meals,  before  driving  off 
on  his  calls.  But  with  the  old  fellow,  whose  bounds 
they  did  not  try  to  traverse,  they  were  quiet  and 
gentle.  When  they  had  identified  him,  through  the 
landlord,  they  liked  to  ask  him  if  there  was  much 
sickness  around.  Now  and  then,  one  submitted  a 
malady  of  his  own  to  Anther,  and  took  his  medicine 
with  a  deferential  inquiry  whether  the  doctor 
thought  smoking  hurt  a  man.  Now  and  then, 
there  was  a  young  family-man  among  them,  who 
was  homesick  for  his  wife  and  babies.  The  older 
family-men  liked  the  quiet  of  Anther's  willing  talk, 
and  put  before  him  their  own  philosophic  conjee  t- 

307 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ures  and  conclusions  about  life  in  general.  Of  their 
own  sort  of  life  they  were  confessedly  tired,  but 
what,  at  their  time  of  day,  could  a  man  do  ?  If  they 
could  get  hold  of  a  piece  of  land  near  a  good  market, 
they  would  be  all  right.  What  about  abandoned 
farms  in  that  neighborhood? 

Among  the  transients  there  happened  people  who 
had  chanced  stopping  at  Saxmills  because  they  had 
a  fancy  for  seeing  what -such  a  place  was  like.  They 
were  people  of  independent  tastes,  from  some  of 
the  larger  cities,  and  of  assthetic  occupations  or  none, 
who  brought  the  waft  of  a  larger  life  and  the  eager 
ness  of  a  sympathetic  intelligence.  There  was 
once  an  elderly  couple  from  the  West,  who,  after 
sparely  owning  that  they  were  originally  from  this 
part  of  the  country,  developed  into  pilgrims  to  the 
old  homestead  of  one  or  other  of  them,  which  they 
thought  of  buying  back  and  fixing  up  for  a  summer 
place,  if  they  could  get  the  children  to  see  it  the 
same  way.  More  than  once  there  was  a  young 
couple,  still  in  the  flush  of  immediate  marriage, 
who  were  breaking  their  wedding  journey  to  Port 
land  or  Montreal  or  Boston,  and  were  first  diffident 
and  then  confident  of  Anther's  good-will  in  his  ap 
proaches  to  their  acquaintance. 

Besides  all  these,  there  were  regular  boarders,  as 
the  bank  cashier  and  his  wife,  somewhat  arid  finan 
cial  and  social  types;  and  that  young  and  foolish 
matron  who  seldom  fails,  in  any  village  community, 
to  supply  food  for  general  reflection,  and  who,  in  the 
idleness  of  the  hotel,  where  her  young  husband,  a 
travelling  man,  has  left  her,  amuses  herself  by  wear- 

308 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ing  a  white  yachting-cap  and  a  toothpick  about  the 
verandas,  and  varies  her  monotonous  leisure  by 
buggy-rides  with  a  merchant  of  the  place  old  enough 
to  behave  better. 

Anther  liked  to  drop  in  on  Judge  Garley  of  a  late 
afternoon,  when  he  commonly  found  the  jurist  read 
ing  a  novel ;  he  preferred  the  translations  of  French 
novels,  which  he  devoured  insatiably,  but  was  as 
fond,  in  another  way,  of  scientific  tracts,  such  as 
he  found  in  the  mustard-colored  Humboldt  series; 
he  liked  psychology  in  any  sort  and  size.  With 
Anther  he  had  always  a  certain  effect  of  considera 
tion,  as  one  to  whom,  if  not  apology,  tenderness 
was  due,  because  of  his  peculiarities  of  tempera 
ment.  The  Langbrith  incident  remained  closed 
between  them,  and  there  was  no  reason  for  Anther 
to  believe  that  Garley  had  any  misgivings  as  to  his 
own  attitude  in  it.  Such  spare  reference  to  that 
business  as  Anther  permitted  himself  was  in  his 
talk  with  Dr.  Enderby,  whom  he  fancied  of  an 
uneasy  mind  concerning  it,  and  with  whom  he  had 
a  humane  interest  in  administering  the  anodyne  of 
his  own  final  peace.  It  was,  in  fact,  from  the  rec 
tor's  reasoning  to  the  conclusion  he  had  reached 
before  that  Anther  was  most  helpful  to  his  friend ; 
Enderby  himself  was  never  so  much  satisfied  with 
being  in  the  right  as  sure  that  he  was  right  in  what 
he  had  done.  It  was  one  of  those  experiences,  he 
once  owned,  that  intimate  a  less  perfect  adjustment 
of  the  moral  elements  in  this  life  than  we  may  hope 
for  in  the  life  hereafter;  as  if  the  earthly  materials 
of  conduct  were  cruder  and  coarser  than  the  spirit 

309 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

which  dealt  with  them,  and  which  was  attuned 
to  finer  issues  of  behavior.  Occasionally  he  asked 
if  Anther  knew  anything  of  James  Langbrith's  im 
mediate  purposes,  and  if  he  might  be  expected  to 
return  at  all  soon.  He  betrayed  that  he  was  not  at 
rest  with  regard  to  Langbrith's  unwittingly  making 
another  a  sharer  in  the  responsibilities  which  he 
must  some  day  assume  towards  the  past. 

Mrs.  Enderby  kept  herself  as  fully  instructed  as 
possible  from  Hope  as  to  the  future  of  the  young 
people,  and  if  she  partook  of  her  husband's  uneasi 
ness,  she  did  not  show  it.  Perhaps,  in  that  opti 
mistic  view  of  marriage  which  some  of  the  best 
women  take  voluntarily,  if  not  instinctively,  she 
looked  forward  to  that  as  the  panacea  of  whatever 
ills  life  had  in  store  for  them.  Of  course,  she  al 
lowed,  Hope  ought  somehow  to  know  the  truth  be 
fore  she  committed  herself  to  the  keeping  of  such  a 
man's  son,  but  this  she  felt  would  be  somehow 
divinely  rather  than  humanely  accomplished ;  in  re 
verting  to  the  comfort  of  a  more  positive  faith  from 
her  ancestral  Unitarianism,  she  grew  constantly  in 
the  grace  of  a  belief  in,  at  least,  subjective  mir 
acles.  That  everything  would  come  out  right  in  the 
end  was  so  clearly  a  part  of  the  universal  justice 
that  she  could  not  have  final  question  of  it.  When 
she  permitted  herself  to  join  in  any  of  the  rare  and 
guarded  approaches  of  Anther  and  her  husband  to 
the  matter,  it  was  to  interpose  herself  between 
what  the  doctor  might  say  and  its  effect  upon  the 
rector.  She  made  herself  the  interpreter  of  Anther's 
acquiescence  in  the  rector's  reasoning,  so  that  it 

310 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

should  be  more  of  the  nature  of  a  robust  and  positive 
support.  If  it  would  not  have  taken  from  Enderby 
the  honor  of  being  first  to  reach  a  right  conclusion, 
she  might  have  argued  that  Anther  had  himself  in 
timated  it  to  him — when  she  was  less  confident  of  it 
she  sometimes  conjectured  this.  But,  for  the  most 
part,  she  was  sure  that  Dr.  Enderby  had  been  in 
spired  to  it,  and  that  the  notion  of  patience,  of 
waiting  on  the  Supreme  Will,  of  looking  for  what 
the  older  theology  called  a  "  leading,"  was  the  true 
ground  to  take.  She  was  the  more  to  be  praised  in 
this  because  patience  was  not  one  of  her  innate 
virtues,  and  it  was  ordinarily  her  practice  in  life  to 
anticipate  the  signs  and  tokens  for  which  she  was 
now  willing  to  trust. 

Something,  in  fact  a  great  deal,  she  held,  was  to 
be  hoped  from  Hawberk's  return  to  health  and  work. 
There,  she  argued,  was  proof  that  the  case  had  never 
really  lapsed  into  forgetfulness  with  the  Power  that 
makes  for  righteousness.  It  was  affecting,  it  was 
enough  to  bring  the  tears — and  she  showed  them  in 
her  eyes — to  know,  as  she  knew  by  her  husband's 
report  of  Anther's  confidences,  how  poor  Hawberk 
was  taking  the  cruel  wrong  that  had  been  done  him 
by  that  wretched  creature.  No  one  else,  surely, 
ought  to  insist  upon  justice,  if  he  preferred  mercy; 
and,  certainly,  if  Hawberk  took  such  a  large,  hu 
mane  view,  her  husband  ought  to  feel  himself  fully 
confirmed  in  it.  Such  a  man  could  be  trusted  with 
the  decision  of  what  ought  to  be  done  about  Hope. 
If  he  was  willing  to  let  the  matter  go  for  the  pres 
ent,  no  one  else  need  bother. 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

To  this  conclusion,  in  these  terms,  Mrs.  Enderby 
came;  and,  without  transgressing  the  bounds  of 
confidence  in  her  cordiality  with  Hawberk,  she  tried 
to  throw  into  her  manner  an  appreciation,  an  ap 
probation,  which  should  be  a  reward  to  him,  even 
in  its  want  of  relevance.  As  nearly  as  she  might 
with  self-respect,  she  lay  in  wait  for  him  in  his  go 
ings  and  comings  to  and  from  the  mills,  and  she  sent 
the  very  latest  of  her  autumn  flowers  home  by  him, 
now  to  his  daughter,  and  now  to  his  mother-in-law, 
so  that  the  old  lady  might  not  feel  neglected.  After 
one  of  the  gay  confabulations  which  Hawberk  was 
as  willing  to  hold  as  herself,  she  told  him  that  now 
she  knew  where  Hope  got  her  happiness,  and  he 
owned  that,  well,  yes,  that  sort  of  thing  seemed  to 
run  in  the  family.  As  to  his  infirmity  and  his  re 
covery  from  it,  she  would  have  liked  to  question 
him  about  it;  but  no  opening  offered  itself,  though 
she  felt  that  Mr.  Hawberk  would  have  been  perfect 
ly  willing  to  talk  if  they  had  once  begun. 

He  was  the  most  enthusiastic  and  optimistic  of 
convalescents,  and  Anther,  who  had  always  to 
count  with  some  sort  of  weakness,  physical  or  moral, 
in  his  patients,  had  not  the  worse  weakness  to  deal 
with  in  Hawberk.  It  was  weakness  of  body,  not  of 
spirit,  that  confronted  the  physician,  who  could 
caution,  but  must  not  alarm,  his  patient  as  to  his 
limitations.  Hawberk  was  more  strenuous  than  An 
ther  in  pushing  their  advantages  against  the  common 
enemy,  when  he  had  begun  sensibly  to  realize  them. 
Without  instruction,  he  suspended  the  laudanum 
altogether  for  a  week ;  and  one  morning,  at  the  end 

312 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

of  it,  he  fell  in  the  street,  and  was  carried  home 
senseless.  It  was  just  when  John  Langbrith  had 
summoned  his  forces  to  the  point  of  putting  the 
mills  into  the  charge  of  Hawberk  and  his  business 
assistant,  preparatory  to  going  round  the  world  so 
quickly  that  he  would  not  be  missed  before  he  got 
back.  When  they  told  him  of  what  had  happened 
to  Hawberk  he  said,  "Hell!"  and  took  up  his  bur 
den  again. 

Hawberk  went  back  to  the  alternating  bane  and 
antidote,  and  was  much  sooner  at  his  work  than 
John  Langbrith  in  his  scepticism  could  have  im 
agined;  but  Langbrith's  faith  in  him  was  gone,  in 
spite  of  all  that  Anther  could  say  or  do  to  restore 
it.  Even  when,  as  the  winter  wore  along  towards 
the  spring,  and  he  was  made  to  believe  that  Haw- 
berk's  laudanum  had  been  gradually  reduced  again 
to  nothing,  and  he  had  the  witness  of  Hawberk' s  en 
thusiastic  efficiency  against  his  own  doubts,  he  prac 
tised  a  sardonic  self-denial  with  regard  to  the  fact. 

"You  let  it  run  along  till  winter,"  he  said  to  An 
ther,  "and,  if  he  keeps  up  till  then,  it  '11  be  time 
enough  to  talk  to  me  about  taking  a  vacation.  But 
I  guess  I've  got  enough  of  putting  an  opium-eater 
in  charge  of  the  mills,  for  one  while." 

In  early  April,  when  the  first  of  the  blackbirds 
had  come  prospecting  as  far  north  as  Saxmills, 
Hawberk  was  one  day  making  a  personal  examina 
tion  of  the  logs  in  the  boom  at  the  head -gates,  for 
certain  sticks  which  he  wished  to  experiment  with, 
in  a  new  idea  of  pulp  which  he  had  got.  He  slipped 
and  fell  into  the  water,  still  icy  cold ;  but  he  easily 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

climbed  out,  and  hurried  home,  to  laugh  at  the 
prophecies  of  his  mother-in-law,  who  told  him  that 
he  had  taken  his  death,  as  soon  as  he  came  dripping 
into  the  house.  For  once,  in  a  long  series  of  gloomy 
forecasts,  she  was  right.  Pneumonia  set  in,  and, 
twenty-four  hours  after  it  set  in,  death  put  his  seal 
to  the  cure  of  opium-eating  which  Doctor  Anther 
had  effected  in  a  typical  case. 

As  long  as  she  lived,  the  seeress  could  boast,  not 
only  that  she  knew  Hawberk  would  die  as  soon  as 
she  laid  eyes  on  him,  but  also  that,  if  Doctor  Anther 
could  have  attended  him,  Hawberk  would  not  have 
died. 


XXXIII 

IN  March,  John  Langbrith's  misery  had  pushed 
him  to  the  desperate  step  of  writing  to  his  nephew 
that,  somehow,  at  any  risk  or  cost,  he  must  get 
away  from  work  for  a  while.  It  was  not  a  case  of 
life  or  death,  and  neither  he  nor  Anther  had  pre 
tended  that  it  was  so;  but  it  was  a  case  of  what  a 
man  could  stand  and  care  to  live.  He  said  this  to 
his  nephew;  but  he  said  also  that  he  had  merely 
reached  the  point  where  he  did  not  care  what  be 
came  of  the  business.  If  James  Langbrith  cared, 
he  had  better  come  home  and  look  after  it;  for,  in 
a  month  from  the  time  he  wrote,  John  Langbrith 
was  going  to  leave  it.  Like  some  men  who  have 
found  a  grim  pleasure  in  suppressing  their  feelings, 
and  who,  upon  a  sudden  occasion,  find  a  yet  grim 
mer  pleasure  in  freeing  them,  he  poured  out  on  his 
nephew  the  disgust  he  had  bottled  up  in  his  heart 
for  James  Langbrith's  views  and  aims,  and  said  that 
he  had  better  learn  to  make  paper  than  plays,  for 
more  people  wanted  it;  there  was  more  demand 
even  for  poor  paper  than  for  poor  plays.  He  said 
something  about  James  Langbrith's  being  old  enough 
to  leave  off  being  a  loafer,  and  to  turn  to  and  do 
something  for  a  living. 

The  letter,  rightly  read,  was  a  cry  of  physical 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

pain ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  was  a  vulgar  and 
abusive  cry,  and  it  filled  Langbrith  with  a  fury  which 
was  not  greater  than  his  astonishment.  In  his  whole 
life,  his  uncle  had  never  spoken  so  many  words  to 
him  on  business,  and  had  never  offered  him  any 
criticism  on  what  he  was  doing  or  proposing  to  do. 
He  had  felt  a  sardonic  reserve  in  John  Langbrith  at 
their  spare  encounters,  but  so  long  as  it  continued 
reserve  he  did  not  care  for  it.  He  had  a  general  con 
tempt  for  his  uncle,  as  a  sort  of  mechanical-minded 
insect  who  could  fulfil  its  office  without  volition  or 
imagination,  and  now  this  insect  had  venomously 
risen  and  stung  him  in  the  tenderest  part  of  his 
vanity.  But  he  resolved  to  be  a  gentleman  in  re 
pelling  the  attack.  He  determined  not  to  answer 
John  Langbrith' s  letter  till  he  had  let  his  wrath  cool ; 
not  to  judge  him  till  he  had  submitted  the  case  to 
another.  The  other  was,  of  course,  Falk,  who  did 
not  give  the  matter  too  great  thought  when  Lang 
brith  pushed  the  letter  peremptorily  between  him 
and  a  sketch  Falk  was  making,  and  required  to 
know  what  he  thought  of  it.  Falk  read  it  with  the 
sort  of  amusement  which  the  pain  of  such  a  man  as 
Langbrith  is  apt  to  give  those  who  know  him,  and 
even  those  who  like  him ;  but,  though  he  smiled,  he 
could  not  refuse  his  friend  the  justice  of  owning, 
"  Pretty  nasty  letter." 

Langbrith  briefly  wrote  back  to  his  uncle  that  he 
was  not  prepared  to  leave  Paris  at  the  moment; 
but  that,  if  John  Langbrith  wished  to  relinquish 
his  charge  of  the  mills,  it  would  be  entirely  accept 
able  to  have  them  left  in  the  hands  of  his  business 

316 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

lieutenant  and  of  Mr.  Hawberk,  who,  as  the  old 
and  devoted  friend  of  his  father,  would  doubtless 
feel,  as  his  father's  brother  seemed  not  to  have  felt, 
the  importance  and  sacred  character  of  the  charge. 
He  made  no  reply  to  John  Langbrith's  sarcasms, 
but  suffered  himself  the  expression  of  a  high,  im 
personal  regret  that  he  should  have  always  mis 
takenly  inferred  his  uncle's  character  from  his  fa 
ther's.  He  could  not,  however,  be  altogether  sorry 
that  he  had  credited  John  Langbrith  with  the  noble 
nature  and  magnanimous  ideals  of  Royal  Lang 
brith.  Brief  as  it  was,  the  letter  was  as  insolently 
foolish  as  it  could  well  be,  and  John  Langbrith, 
reading  it  on  the  way  up  to  Hawberk's  house,  where 
he  had  been  summoned  by  news  of  Hawberk's 
dangerous  condition,  pushed  it  into  his  pocket  with 
a  pleasure  in  not  having  been  mistaken  as  to  the 
writer  which  few  men  would  have  been  able  to 
feel. 

He  had  been  told  that  he  had  better  go  up,  by 
the  young  doctor  who  was  hopelessly  looking  after 
Hawberk  in  place  of  Dr.  Anther,  then  in  the  second 
week  of  a  typhoid  fever.  Anther  had  fought  against 
the  fever  to  the  last,  and  when  he  succumbed  to  it 
he  was  already  delirious,  so  that  it  was  not  known 
whether  his  asking  for  Mrs.  Langbrith  was  or  was 
not  from  a  mind  fully  master  of  itself.  But  it  did 
not  matter.  She  was  already  on  her  way  to  him, 
at  the  first  rumor  of  his  sickness ;  and  she  carried  her 
home  into  his  homeless  house,  and  gave  him  the 
tireless  devotion  in  which  alone  she  was  not  weak. 
She  took  her  two  women  with  her  and  installed 


THE    SON    OF   ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

them  in  the  place,  which  she  stripped  the  Langbrith 
homestead  to  make  a  little  less  comfortless.  She 
published,  so  far  as  her  action  went,  the  fact  of 
their  affection  to  the  whole  village  world.  To  some 
of  those  who  came  to  offer  the  help  she  almost  pas 
sionately  refused,  she  said  that  Dr.  Anther  and  she 
were  engaged,  and  that  they  were  to  be  married  as 
soon  as  he  was  well  again.  In  the  sort  of  vehe 
mence  with  which  she  declared  this,  she  might  well 
have  wished  to  put  her  purpose  beyond  recall. 
Mrs.  Enderby  and  Mrs.  Garley  would  have  helped 
her;  there  were  few  in  the  village  who  would  not 
have  been  glad  to  offer  help,  if  that  of  her  nearest 
friends  and  his  had  been  allowed.  She  was  not 
stupidly  and  jealously  set  upon  the  sole  charge  of 
the  sick  man :  it  was  she  who  had  first  thought  of 
having  a  trained  nurse  from  Boston,  and  had  sug 
gested  it  to  the  young  doctor,  who  did  not  like  to 
venture  on  it.  She  put  herself  second  to  the  nurse,  and 
subordinately  shared  her  duties  and  vigils,  claiming 
no  rights  and  asserting  no  hopes  they  had  not  in 
common.  She  had  not  even  the  poor  consolation  of 
being  the  subject  of  the  sick  man's  ravings.  His 
crazy  thoughts  ran  mostly  upon  Hawberk,  whom  he 
fancied  advising  and  cautioning  as  to  his  case.  Two 
or  three  times  he  dimly  knew  Mrs.  Langbrith,  but 
supposed  himself  in  her  own  house  with  her.  He 
sometimes  mistook  the  nurse  for  her.  All  the 
tragedy  that  had  allied  them  in  the  past,  the  baffle, 
the  defeat,  the  despair  was  wiped  out ;  and  a  trivial 
cheerfulness  replaced  it  in  the  sick  man's  delirium. 
John  Langbrith  came  to  tell  her  of  Hawberk's 

318 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

death,  and  he  said  to  the  bewilderment  in  which 
she  listened,  "What  are  you  going  to  do  about 
James  ?  He  ought  to  come  home,  if  he  ever  means 
to;  but  /  can't  make  him." 

"I  will,"  she  said  from  her  daze,  without  asking 
him  why  he  could  not  do  it,  as  he,  perhaps,  intended. 
But  she  sat  still  without  offering  to  put  her  will 
into  any  sort  of  effect. 

"I've  got  the  cablegram-blank  with  me,"  John 
Langbrith  said.  "You  want  to  cable  him,  don't 
you?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "What  shall  I  say?"  she 
asked. 

"Oh,  anything — just  'Hawberk  dead:  come  im 
mediately.'  ': 

She  wrote  mechanically  from  his  dictation;  then 
she  put  in  a  word. 

"Well,"  John  Langbrith  said,  with  his  grim  smile, 
"it  wa'n't  necessary  to  have  the  'Mister,'  but  it 
only  costs  twenty-five  cents  more,  and  he  didn't 
get  the  '  Mister  '  so  often  while  he  was  alive.  Want 
to  sign  it,  don't  you?" 

"Oh  yes,"  and  she  took  the  despatch  from  him. 
Then,  after  a  hesitation,  she  signed  it  "  Mother,"  and 
gave  it  back,  and  let  him  go  without  asking  any 
thing  about  Hope. 

John  Langbrith  stayed  two  days  for  Hawberk's 
funeral;  then,  with  some  formality,  referring  to  the 
favorable  symptoms  in  Anther's  case,  which  he 
would  not  have  observed,  perhaps,  if  they  had 
been  unfavorable,  he  broke  away  from  his  work, 
and  took  his  misery  with  him  on  a  vacation.  He 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  a  blind  notion  that  a  sea-voyage  would  be  the 
thing  for  him,  and  he  thought  of  a  trip  to  Ber 
muda.  But  he  found  that  he  could  not  get  back 
under  a  week,  and,  desperate  as  he  was,  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  put  that  time  between  him  and 
possible  recall  to  his  business  cares.  He  devolved  upon 
a  trip  to  Old  Point  Comfort,  and  went  and  returned 
by  the  coastwise  steamers,  which  encountered  heavy 
weather  enough  to  prolong  both  voyages,  and  to 
give  him  several  days  of  haggard  unrest  at  the  beach 
hotel.  He  got  in,  he  considered,  a  full  week  of  sea- 
air  by  this  means,  and  he  arrived  in  New  York  one 
morning  in  time  to  take  a  Boston  train  which  would 
connect  for  Saxmills,  so  that  he  could  sleep  at  home 
that  night. 

He  imagined  it  in  this  phrase  before  he  realized, 
with  a  sardonic  humor,  that  it  would  be  going  to 
bed,  rather  than  sleeping,  at  home.  He  did  not 
know  how  he  was  ever  to  sleep  again  anywhere; 
and  the  flame  in  his  stomach  fretted  him  to  a  white 
heat  of  exasperation  with  everything  in  life  and 
the  world.  He  was  going  back  not  better  but  worse, 
and  he  was  going  to  take  up  alone  the  burden  that 
Hawberk  had  divided  with  him  during  the  last  six 
months.  Why  need  Hawberk  have  died  now,  damn 
him?  He  raged,  and  he  cursed  the  fool  for  losing 
his  life  on  that  idiotic  venture,  when  he  could  have 
sent  any  boy  in  the  mills  to  pick  out  the  right  logs. 
In  his  thought  he  visited  the  insufficiency  of  this 
business  lieutenant  with  equal  fury  and  profanity, 
and  wondered  what  hell  of  a  muddle  he  would  have 
contrived  to  make  of  things  in  the  week  that  he 

320 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  been  left  alone.  He  included  Anther  in  the 
rage  of  his  condemnation,  for  being  down  with  ty 
phoid  just  when  his  skill  was  needed  to  save  Haw- 
berk,  and  he  included  that  young  jackass  of  an 
Emering,  who  knew  as  much  about  practising  medi 
cine  as  John  Langbrith  knew  about  sailing  a  ship. 
The  figure  was  an  effect  from  his  recent  voyages, 
in  which  all  forms  of  navigation  had  fallen  under 
his  contempt,  as  incompetent  to  supply  a  man  with 
the  seasickness  on  which  he  had  counted  as  one  of 
the  means  of  relief  from  his  dyspepsia.  While  the 
boat  rolled  and  pitched,  and  cries  for  help  hailed  the 
stewards  from  every  state-room,  he  had  kept  a  stead 
fast  stomach,  such  as  it  was ;  and  he  had  maniacally 
calculated  in  his  anguish  that  there  was  not  enough 
water  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to  put  out  the  fire  that 
was  burning  in  his  hold. 

It  was  still  smoldering  when  the  train  stopped 
ten  minutes  for  refreshments  at  New  Haven,  and 
Langbrith,  who  had  started  breakfastless  from  New 
York,  recklessly  decided  to  supply  it  with  fresh  fuel. 
As  everything  indifferently  disagreed  with  him,  he 
did  not  see  why  he  should  not  have  a  cup  of  turbid 
coffee,  a  plate  of  cold  beans,  and  a  piece  of  apple- 
pie,  as  well  as  anything  wholesome,  and  he  was  wip 
ing  the  traces  of  this  repast  from  his  shaggy  mus 
tache  when  he  ran  for  his  train,  and  scrambled  into 
his  parlor-car,  just  before  the  porter  picked  up  his 
carpeted  step  and  swung  himself  aboard.  As  he 
crowded  through  the  narrow  aisle  on  his  way  to 
take  his  seat  again,  he  glanced  into  the  smoking- 
room  and  met  the  eye  of  his  nephew,  who  turned 

321 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

at  the  same  moment  from  watching  the  shipping 
in  the  harbor  through  the  windows  and  over  the 
platforms  of  the  cars  receding  on  the  sidings. 

They  knew  each  other  with  less  surprise  on  John 
Langbrith's  part  than  James  Langbrith's;  but  it 
was  the  uncle  who  expressed  an  ironical  astonish 
ment,  when  he  decided  to  be  first  to  break  the  si 
lence  in  which  they  were  glarmg  at  each  other. 
"Oh!"  he  said,  "thought  you'd  come  over!" 


XXXIV 

EVERYTHING  in  the  sight  of  the  young  man  made 
the  older  man  hate  him ;  but,  most  of  all,  it  was  the 
indefinable  touch  of  Europe,  of  France,  of  the  Latin 
Quarter  in  James  Langbrith' s  dress  which,  while  it 
could  not  interpret  itself  explicitly  to  John  Lang 
brith's  ignorance,  expressed  something  superiorly 
and  offensively  alien. 

"Uncle  John" — the  young  man's  misfortune  was 
to  intensify  this  effect  by  the  tone  of  his  suggestion— 
"  don't  you  think  we  had  better  leave  anything  of 
this  sort  till  after — till  later?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  John  Langbrith  sourly  responded. 
And  he  came  into  the  smoking-room,  and  sat  down 
in  a  chair  opposite  the  corner  of  the  sofa  where 
James  had  been  looking  out  of  the  window. 

They  had  the  place  to  themselves.  It  was  the 
train  which  used  to  be  called  the  "ladies'  train," 
because  of  its  convenient  hours  and  slower  gait, 
suitable  to  the  leisurely  transit  of  the  unbusiness 
sex;  and  James  Langbrith,  in  entering  the  car,  had 
noted  that,  but  for  one  man,  there  were  only  women 
in  it,  and  had  taken  possession  of  the  smoking-room 
to  think  the  more  unmolestedly  of  things  that  had 
filled,  it  seemed  almost  to  bursting,  his  mind  for  the 
last  ten  days.  John  Langbrith  had  made  no  such 

323 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

observation,  but  he  saw  that  they  were  alone  with 
an  opportunity  for  quarrel,  with  which  he  luxuri 
ously  toyed  before  he  fully  grasped  it. 

"When  did  you  come? "he  asked,  after  looking 
vainly  for  a  splinter  to  chew  upon.  He  caught  sight 
of  the  porter's  whisk-broom  over  the  wash-bowl, 
and  supplied  himself  with  a  straw. 

In  the  mean  time,  James  had  said,  "We  got  in 
this  morning;  our  boat  was  thirty-six  hours  late;  it 
was  two  days  before  I  could  get  away  after  the 
cable  reached  me.  She  was  the  first  boat  out." 

The  words  were  spare  enough,  but  there  was  an 
exculpatory  flavor  in  them  that  suited  John  Lang- 
brith's  ferocious  mood,  and  when  James  added, 
"How  is  my  mother,  and  Hope?"  he  loosed  himself 
upon  the  young  man. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  haven't  seen  them  for  a  week, 
and  I  don't  want  to  bandy  any  small- talk  with  you. 
I  got  your  answer  to  my  letter  all  right,  and  I  want 
to  have  a  square  understanding  with  you.  I  don't 
know  as  we  ever  had  a  regular  understanding,  did 
we?" 

"I  don't  know  that  we  did,  if  you  mean  about 
the  mills." 

"I  mean  about  the  mills.  What  the  devil  else 
could  I  mean?" 

"That,"  said  James,  "was  all  arranged  before  I 
was  old  enough  to  have  any  understanding  with 
you,  and  since  then  I  have  let  my  absolute  trust  in 
you  take  the  place  of  an  understanding." 

"  I  know  that  damn  well.  But  the  time  has  come 
now  when  I  don't  want  your  absolute  trust." 

324 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

It  occurred  again  to  James  Langbrith,  as  it  had 
occurred  before,  since  getting  his  uncle's  astounding 
letter,  that  his  uncle  might  be  mad. 

"  I  want  to  know  whether  you've  come  home  for 
good,  to  take  a  grown  man's  share  in  your  own 
business?" 

"That  depends,"  James  parried  the  issue.  He 
was  really  no  more  afraid  of  the  impending  quarrel 
than  his  uncle,  but  he  was  a  dreamer,  and  he  liked 
to  nurse  his  conclusions  before  trying  them:  liked 
to  shy  off  from  them  and  feign  that  they  were  not 
immediate,  and  perhaps  not  at  all.  John  Langbrith 
was  concrete  where  the  young  man  was  abstract, 
and  his  pleasure  was  to  force  the  issue. 

"It  don't  depend  on  me.  I'm  done  with  the 
thing.  I'm  going  back  to  Saxmills,  but  it's  to  pull 
out  for  good  and  all." 

"I  suppose,"  James  Langbrith  assented,  "that 
there  will  be  an  accounting  and  a  settlement?" 

"Oh,  don't  you  be  afraid  of  that,  young  man. 
There'll  be  a  settlement  all  right,  and  after  I've 
been  paid  a  little  more  than  days'  wages,  you  can 
have  the  rest."  John  Langbrith  felt  the  coffee  and 
beans  and  pie  beginning  to  ignite,  and  he  flamed 
out  upon  his  nephew  from  that  inner  conflagration, 
"What  do  you  mean  by  'an  accounting,'  you — you 
whipper-snapper  ?' ' 

James  Langbrith  made  no  answer,  and  his  uncle 
pulled  his  chair  closer,  and  put  his  face  so  near  that 
the  young  man  turned  his  own  slightly  aside,  to 
get  it  out  of  the  current  of  his  uncle's  dyspeptic 
breath. 

325 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"What  do  you  mean?  What  do  you  mean?" 
John  Langbrith  insisted.  "  Do  you  suppose  Royal 
Langbrith  was  a  man  to  put  anybody  slippery  into 
his  business?" 

"You  know,"  James  Langbrith  disgustedly,  but 
quietly,  responded,  "that  I  could  not  mean  to  im 
pugn  your  honor."  With  the  effect  of  being  pushed 
to  the  wall  and  menaced  there,  he  looked  like  his 
mother,  who  had  so  often  been  in  that  place,  first 
through  his  father's  duress  and  then  through  his 
own. 

"Honor!"  John  Langbrith  spat  the  word  out  of 
his  mouth.  "I'm  talking  business!  What  sort  of 
man  do  you  suppose  your  father  was,  anyway?" 

A  light,  less  of  hate  for  his  uncle  than  of  love  for 
his  ideal  of  the  father  he  had  never  known,  kindled 
in  James  Langbrith's  eyes,  the  long  eyes  of  his 
mother.  "He  was,  at  least,  a  gentleman." 

"  That's  to  say  I'm  not.  Well,  go  on !  We'll  take 
it  for  granted  in  my  case.  How  do  you  know  he 
was  a  gentleman,  heigh?"  He  pressed  him  with 
the  last  word,  and  repeated  it  with  a  smile  of  scorn 
and  pain.  "Heigh?  How  do  you  know?"  James 
Langbrith  moved  his  head  from  side  to  side,  as  much 
now  to  escape  what  message  of  disaster  might  be 
coming  as  the  effluvium  that  should  bear  it.  But  he 
made  no  answer,  and  John  Langbrith  hitched  himself 
so  near  that  his  bony  shins  sawed  against  his  neph 
ew's  legs,  and  he  tapped  him  on  the  knee  with  his 
spiky  forefinger,  in  the  habit  he  had  when  talking 
business  with  people.  He  was  talking  business  now 
as  he  said:  "You  don't  know?  Well,  I  do,  because 

326 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

he  was  my  brother,  and  I  knew  him  up  to  within 
twenty  minutes  of  his  death.  If  he  didn't  reform 
within  them  twenty  minutes" — John  Langbrith  in 
his  passion  lost  the  grip,  always  uncertain,  of  his 
grammar — "  he'd  ought  to  have  went  smack,  smooth 
to  hell,  like  shot  out  of  a  shovel !"  James  Langbrith's 
eyes  dilated  with  the  assured  conviction  of  his  uncle's 
insanity,  but  at  the  same  time  his  nostrils  swelled 
with  resentment  of  the  maniac's  offence.  John 
Langbrith  gave  him  no  chance  for  the  expression  of 
either  the  belief  or  the  emotion.  "Ever  since  I 
could  remember  him  he  was  the  coolest  and  slickest 
devil!  I  don't  know  where  he  got  it!  He  had  the 
trick  of  making  other  folks  do  his  dirty  work — and 
he  was  full  of  that,  I  can  tell  you — and  keeping 
such  a  hold  of  'em  that  they  never  had  the  chance 
to  squirm  out  of  the  blame.  He  had  me  fixed  good 
and  fast,  while  we  were  boys,  by  a  scrape  he  hauled 
me  into  along  with  him,  and  when  he  wanted  me, 
any  time,  and  said  '  Come !'  you  bet  I  went.  That's 
the  way  I  came  to  be  left  in  charge  of  his  business 
when  he  died,  and  that  poor  fool  of  a  Hawberk 
crowded  out  of  it  with  lies  that  Royal  threatened  to 
tell  his  wife  if  he  peeped.  That's  the  way  the  wom 
an  Royal  lived  with  down  to  Boston  came  to  take 
what  he  give  her  and  no  questions  asked,  without 
makin'  trouble  for  him,  alive  or  dead.  She  was  fixed 
so  that  she  didn't  peep!  And  so  right  along  the 
whole  line!  If  he  hadn't  cowed  your  mother  for 
good  and  all  she  might  have  said  something  about 
the  way  he  used  to  bully  her,  and  when  he  came 
home  from  his  Boston  sprees  used  to  pound  her. 

327 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Oh,  he  was  a  gentleman,  Royal  was!  And  that  poor 
sheep  of  an  Anther  might  have  spoke  out  in  meetin' 
if  your  mother  hadn't  been  so  mollycoddlin'  about 
you  that  she  couldn't  bear  to  have  you  told  the 
truth  when  he  wanted  to  marry  her  and  couldn't 
make  her  tell.  But  /'//  tell  you  now,  and  don't  you 
forget  it.  Royal  was  such  a  gentleman  that  he 
cooked  it  up  with  the  devil  how  to  fool  the  whole 
town,  and  make  'em  believe  he  was  a  saint  upon 
earth.  That  library  buildin'!  He  gave  it  out  of 
the  profits  of  the  first  year  after  he  choused  Haw- 
berk,  and  the  mis'ble  crittur  was  makin'  it  all  right 
for  Royal  by  tryin'  to  kill  himself  with  laudanum! 
Why,  he  made  Royal  Langbrith  rich  with  his  in 
ventions,  and  then  Royal  got  the  credit  of  'em ;  and 
he  got  the  credit  of  doin'  the  handsome  thing  by  a 
man  that  was  an  opium-fiend,  according  to  his  tell, 
from  the  beginning.  And  when  you  took  it  into 
your  fool  head  to  put  up  that  tablet  to  him  in  the 
front  of  the  library,  he  had  things  so  solid  that  all 
hell  couldn't  bust  'em  up.  Anther  did  go  round  to 
Garley  and  tell  him  the  rights  of  it,  but  that  old 
chump  honey  fugled  him  into  believin'  that  he  bet 
ter  let  by-gones  be  by-gones,  for  fear  of  the  corruptin' 
effects  on  the  community.  Then  Anther  come  to 
me,  the  last  thing,  but  I  was  stickin'  to  my  job,  just 
about  then,  and  I  thought  if  your  mother  wouldn't 
keep  you  from  runnin'  your  neck  into  the  noose,  / 
wouldn't.  I  believe  there  wasn't  a  last  one  of  therti 
jackasses  up  on  the  platform  that  wasn't  as  big  a 
fool  as  you,  except  me  and  Anther,  and  that  old 
honeyfugler.  And  I  ain't  sure,"  John  Langbrith 

328 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

said,  withdrawing  his  furious  face  a  little  from  its 
proximity  to  his  nephew's,  "but  what  I'd  have 
held  my  tongue,  now,  if  you  hadn't  put  it  to  me 
that  Royal  Langbrith  was  a  gentleman  and  I 
wasn't;  but  now  you've  got  it,  I  guess,  about  as 
strong  as  they  make  it,  right  in  the  collar-button!" 
He  leaned  forward  again,  and  demanded  in  a  fresh 
burst  of  fury:  "  I  suppose  you  don't  believe  me!  I 
presume  you  think  I'm  try  in'  to  work  you,  or  off 
my  nut,  or  just  pure  ugly!  Well,  you  can  ask  An 
ther,  when  you  get  home.  And  you  can  ask  your 
mother!  And  you  can  ask  the  mother  of  his  chil 
dren  —  I'll  give  you  her  address.  And  you  can 
ask  that  old  honeyfugling  fraud  of  a  Garley.  And 
you  can  ask  Haw —  Oh  no,  you  can't  ask  him! 
He's  out  of  it,  but  I  guess  his  mother-in-law  could 
tell  you  something  she's  suspected,  all  right!  Oh, 
you've  got  a  nice  job  cut  out  for  you,  young  man! 
Why,  I  wouldn't  be  in  your  shoes— 

The  parlor-car  conductor  put  his  head  in  at  the 
door,  and  looked  at  them.  John  Langbrith  fell  sud 
denly  as  silent  as  James  Langbrith  had  been  through 
out.  With  the  shadow  of  a  changing  mind  passing 
over  his  face,  the  conductor  said,  "  See:  d'  I  get  your 
tickets?"  and  James  Langbrith,  if  not  John  Lang 
brith,  knew  that  he  had  been  drawn  to  them  by  the 
sound  of  a  noisy,  angry  voice,  and  had  meant  to 
ask  them  to  be  quieter. 

But  the  young  man  could  not  care.  It  would  not 
have  mattered  to  him  now  whether  the  whole  world 
had  overheard ;  the  universal  knowledge  of  the  fact 
could  be  nothing,  compared  with  the  fact  itself. 

329 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

His  uncle  got  up  and  went  out  to  his  seat  in  the 
parlor,  but  James  Langbrith  did  not  move.  He 
sat  exposed  to  the  tempest  that  had  opened  upon 
him  without  the  shelter  of  a  doubt.  It  seemed  still 
to  rage  upon  him  like  some  war  of  the  elements, 
and  he  was  aware  not  only  of  the  truth  of  what  had 
been  told  him,  but  of  its  not  being  novel.  He  had 
that  mystical  sense  of  its  having  all  happened  be 
fore,  long  ago,  and  of  a  privity  to  it,  in  his  inmost, 
dating  back  to  his  first  consciousness.  The  awful 
conviction  of  the  reality  which  held  him  like  a  de 
moniacal  obsession  was  blended  with  a  physical  loath 
ing  of  his  uncle's  person,  a  disgust  verging  on  sick 
ness  for  his  boiling  hate,  his  vulgar  profanities, 
mixed  with  the  oldest  and  the  newest  slang,  and 
the  brute  solecisms  of  the  vernacular  into  which 
John  Langbrith  had  lapsed  in  his  passion.  If  he 
had  wanted  proof  of  what  had  been  said  of  his 
father,  the  fact  that  John  Langbrith  was  his  father's 
brother  would  have  been  proof  enough  to  the  young 
man's  shame. 

From  time  to  time,  in  the  turmoil  of  his  cognitions, 
he  had  a  nerveless  impulse  to  follow  his  uncle, 
where  he  had  gone  to  his  seat  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  ask  him  this  and  that,  but  he  did  not.  He 
was  not  aware  of  stirring  till  the  porter  came  for  his 
bag  at  the  South  Terminals  in  Boston.  Then  the 
horrible  dream  went  on  like  waking,  as  he  drove 
across  the  city  to  the  Northern  Stations,  and  found 
his  train  for  Saxmills.  Till  then  he  had  lost  sight 
of  his  uncle,  but  he  saw  him  boarding  the  same 
train ;  he  looked  into  the  smoker,  and,  finding  it  fairly 

330 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

full,  he  got  into  it,  making  sure  that  John  Lang- 
brith  would  not  come  to  molest  him  there.  He  had 
no  wish  now  but  to  keep  away  from  him,  to  keep 
for  the  present  out  of  the  sight  of  the  man  who  had 
heaped  his  dishonor  upon  him,  and  who  alone  of 
all  that  he  could  encounter  would  be  knowing  to  it. 

Apparently  John  Langbrith  had  no  wish  to  look 
him  up.  He  had  doubtless  poured  the  last  drop 
from  the  vials  of  his  wrath  out  upon  him,  and  was 
without  any  purpose  of  breaking  them  upon  his 
devoted  head.  At  any  rate,  when  they  got  out  of 
the  train  at  Saxmills,  the  uncle  made  no  motion  to 
approach  his  nephew.  He  stared  at  him,  ignoring 
him  as  perfectly  as  if  he  were  any  other  shadow  of 
the  vaguely  lighted  depot,  and  getting  into  one  of 
the  two  ramshackle  public  carriages  which  had 
chanced  a  late  passenger,  drove  off  into  the  dark 
ness.  James  Langbrith  took  the  other,  and  bade 
the  man,  who  was  a  stranger  to  him,  drive  to  Mrs. 
Langbrith's. 

All  the  way  he  had  a  sinking  of  the  heart  which 
was  not  related  to  the  failure  of  his  mother  to  have 
him  met,  after  he  had  telegraphed  her  from  New 
York  that  he  was  coming  on  that  train.  There  was 
no  lifting  at  sight  of  a  belated  lamp  in  the  parlor,  or 
at  its  moving  thence,  when  he  knocked,  and  showing 
through  the  transom  of  the  hall-door,  which  his 
mother  opened  to  him  herself. 


XXXV 

JAMES  LANGBRITH  took  his  mother  in  his  arms 
with  an  emotion  that  he  had  never  known  before, 
with  pity,  with  honor,  with  reverence  due  to  mute 
suffering,  with  everything  that  endears  and  exalts 
an  object  long  beloved  and  wronged.  She  seemed 
surprised  at  his  warmth,  and  sparely  kissed  him, 
without  even  a  lax  return  of  his  embrace. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  breaking  from  the  sense  of 
her  coldness  and  from  the  subjective  pressure  of 
something  unwonted  in  the  absolutely  unchanged 
environment,  "  I  came  from  New  York  with  Uncle 
John,  and  he  told  me  about  father."  As  he  said 
this,  he  noted  that  the  place  was  lighted  only  by  a 
hand-lamp,  which  she  was  nervously  fingering.  Her 
face  was  swollen  as  with  weeping,  and  the  red  cres 
cents  under  her  eyes  were  tumid  with  tears  unshed. 

She  said,  beginning  with  the  estrayal  of  his  glance 
towards  the  lamp:  "Norah  is  not  here,  and  I  have 
let  the  cook  go  to  bed.  I  said  I  would  sit  up  for 
you.  She  wanted  to." 

" Thank  you,"  he  said,  mechanically,  to  her 
drooping  head.  "Uncle  John,"  he  repeated,  "told 
me  about  father."  Either  she  did  not  understand 
or  she  did  not  heed;  it  seemed  impossible  that  she 
should  not  have  done  both ;  but  he  felt  that  it  would 

332 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

be  cruel  to  press  her  further  with  the  fact  of  his 
knowledge  now;  he  took  his  first  lesson  in  forbear 
ance  with  her.  "  I  want  to  see  Dr.  Anther,  at  once. 
Do  you  suppose  he  is  well  enough  to  see  me,  to 
night?" 

"Dr.  Anther?"  she  asked,  with  an  accent  that 
impressed  him  as  having  something  in  it  as  strange 
to  herself  as  to  him.  "Why,  you  can't  see  him!" 

"Yes,  I  know  he  is  sick;  Hope  wrote  to  me.  I 
didn't  think — you  must  excuse —  How  is  he?" 

"He  is  dead,"  she  answered,  simply.  "He  died 
early  this  morning.  I  wanted  to  stay  and  sit  up, 
to-night,  but  they  wouldn't  let  me.  They  say  it 
isn't  the  custom,  any  more.  I've  just  got  back 
here.  I  brought  the  trained  nurse.  She  ought  to 
have  a  little  rest  before  she  goes  back  to  Boston." 
She  added  one  fact  to  the  other  in  the  same  quality 
of  tone,  with  the  same  effect  of  not  realizing  any  of 
them. 

"  Dead?"  was  all  that  James  Langbrith  could  say. 

"  They  thought  he  was  getting  well,  one  while ;  or 
I  did.  But  Dr.  Emering  said  he  wTas  afraid,  all 
along.  He  had  splendid  care.  That  trained  nurse 
is  as  good  as  another  doctor."  With  the  same  life- 
lessness  she  said:  "I've  put  you  out  a  little  supper; 
and  then  I  suppose  you'll  want  to  go  to  bed.  I 
don't  know  as  you'll  find  things  very  comfortable. 
I  took  both  the  girls  with  me,  and,  with  Norah  there 
still,  things  haven't  been  put  to  rights,  all.  But 
I've  got  your  room  ready." 

She  ceased  to  speak,  and  they  both  sat  in  a  si 
lence  like  that  of  the  night  when  he  found  her  in  the 

333 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

moonlight  there  after  his  return  to  do  Hope's  bid 
ding,  and  consent  to  her  marriage  with  Dr.  Anther. 
Now  as  then  it  was  as  if  there  was  to  be  no  end  to 
their  sitting  in  silence  together,  but  now  it  ought 
to  be  a  silence  that  united,  not  parted,  them. 

Up  to  a  certain  moment  in  every  evil  predicament 
men  are  the  victims  of  it,  and  after  that,  if  they 
continue  in  it  they  are  its  agents,  though  as  little  its 
masters  as  before.  They  are  exceptionally  happy 
men  if  they  realize  this  early  enough  in  life  to  make 
choice  of  their  better  selves  against  their  worse,  and 
in  that  choice  finally  prevail  over  their  evil  predica 
ment.  The  events  of  James  Langbrith's  situation 
presented  themselves  with  the  simultaneity  with 
which  events  are  said  to  show  themselves  in  instants 
of  mortal  peril.  No  detail  was  missing  in  the  retro 
spect  of  wilful  arrogance,  of  blind  conceit,  of  vain 
folly,  of  baseless  illusion;  and  yet,  with  it  all,  he 
justly  felt  that  he  was  not  so  bad  as  any  of  the 
things  he  had  done.  At  his  age  he  could  not  be 
without  hope:  there  could  be  as  yet  no  error  in  life 
wholly  irreparable.  His  soul  seized  upon  renuncia 
tion,  sacrifice,  as  its  only  refuge,  and  he  said,  as  he 
thought,  to  himself — but  from  her  response  he  knew 
that  he  must  have  also  said  it  to  his  mother — "I 
must  release  Hope." 

She  answered  simply,  "It's  too  late,  to-night." 
"Yes,  but  I  will  see  her  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning,  and  tell  her.  That  will  be  the  end  be 
tween  us."  His  mother  did  not  gainsay  him,  and 
he  asked:  "Does  she  know  about  it — what  my 
father  did  to  hers?" 

334 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

His  mother  said  impassively,  "  I  don't  believe 
she  does." 

"Then  I  must  tell  her,  and  let  her  take  herself 
back.  She  would  hate  me." 

His  mother  looked  at  him  in  a  daze;  she  seemed 
about  to  speak,  but  did  not.  "Mother,"  his  voice 
quivered  in  the  question,  "do  you  suppose  Dr.  An 
ther  hated  me?" 

She  took  time,  as  if  to  consider.  "  I  don't  believe 
he  did — after  the  first — after  you  went  away  that 
day.  As  far  as  anything  went  that  he  said  then 
or  ever  afterwards,  he  pitied  you." 

"Oh!"  Langbrith  groaned. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  resumed,  "  how  much  for  me 
it  was  that  he  pitied  you.  He  was  always  wanting 
you  to  be  told  about — about  Mr.  Langbrith;  but 
he  wouldn't  force  me,  when  he  saw  I  couldn't.  I 
don't  know  as  I  did  right  not  to  tell  you,  but  the 
time  never  seemed  to  come." 

The  words  had  a  sound  of  excuse,  and  against 
this  he  protested,  "Oh,  mother!" 

"He  wanted  me,"  she  continued  emotionlessly, 
"  to  let  him  tell  you,  but  he  always  said  he  wouldn't 
be  my  tyrant ;  he  thought  I  had  had  enough  of  ty 
rants." 

Her  son  winced  with  a  cruel  pang.  "Did  he 
think  I  had  been  your  tyrant?" 

"I  guess  he  did,  in  some  ways.  But  not  that 
you  meant  to.  He  never  liked  to  blame,  a  great 
deal."  She  added,  with  finality,  "He  was  a  good 
man." 

"Yes,  yes!"  Langbrith  wailed,  in  his  intolerable 
335 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

regret.  "  He  was  a  good  man.  And  I  insulted  and 
outraged  him  when,  because  he  meant  the  best  a 
man  could  and  had  been  your  true  and  constant 
friend,  I  should  have  been  on  my  knees  to  him. 
And  mother,  do  you?'* 

"Do  I  what?" 

"Pity  me,  too?    Forgive  me?" 

She  drew  a  long,  weary  sigh.  "  Oh,  what  does  it 
all  matter?" 

"Everything — the  whole  world,  life,  death!" 

She  appeared  to  consider  again.  Then  she  an 
swered,  "  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  felt  but  the  one 
way  to  you.  You  were  my  son." 

He  felt  that  to  rise  and  kiss  her  for  the  assurance 
of  her  love  would  have  been  to  profane  it.  He  sat 
where  he  was,  but  he  burst  into  a  wild  sobbing,  the 
tears  of  a  man  who  does  not  weep  till  the  fountains 
of  being  are  broken  up.  When  he  controlled  him 
self  he  asked,  "Who  else  knows  about  father?" 

"Dr.  Anther  said  he  told  Judge  Garley  and  Mr. 
Enderby.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  Mrs.  Enderby 
knows  too,  but  I  don't  believe  Mrs.  Garley  does. 
Mr.  Hawberk  did.  And  your  Uncle  John.  I  guess 
that's  all." 

"And  now  everybody  must  know!  I  will  begin 
with  Hope." 

His  mother  said  nothing  to  this;  it  was  as  if  she 
considered  it  his  affair,  in  which  she  had  no  longer 
any  part.  She  sat  awhile,  but  not  apparently  for 
further  speech  with  him.  Then  she  rose  and  took 
her  lamp.  "I  guess  I  will  go  to  bed,  now."  She 
moved  absently  towards  the  door.  She  turned,  and 

336 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

came  back  to  light  another  lamp,  which  stood  ready 
on  a  table.  "  I  was  leaving  you  in  the  dark— 

"I  would  rather,"  he  broke  out.  " Don't  light 
it!  I  can  find  my  way.  Good-night,  mother!" 

She  looked  at  him,  faltering,  and  then  she  stooped 
and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead,  and  left  him  sitting 
in  the  dark.  He  realized  that  he  was  sitting  before 
his  father's  portrait,  and  that  it  had  been  witness 
of  the  scene  which  had  passed.  He  mutely  said  to 
it,  "I  must  begin  to  undo." 

He  sat  through  the  night,  and  in  the  morning, 
Norah  returning  to  the  house,  and  letting  herself  in 
with  a  latch-key  at  the  front  door,  woke  him  from 
the  drowse  he  had  fallen  into,  and  after  his  bath 
forced  him  to  drink  the  coffee  she  had  brought  him 
in  the  dining-room.  She  was  very  gentle  with  him, 
and  he  with  her,  like  people  sharing  the  sorrow  of 
the  same  house  of  mourning,  but  beyond  the  ex 
change  of  a  few  questions  and  answers  about  his 
voyage  home  they  did  not  speak  till  he  said,  "  What 
did  my  mother  mean,  Norah,  about  having  just  got 
back  here?  Has  she  been  out  of  the  house?" 

"  And  didn't  she  tell  you  ?  We  all  been  up  at  the 
doctor's  keepin'  house  there,  and  doin'  for  him;  me 
and  Mary  and  your  mother,  ever  since  it  was  sure 
he  was  goin'  to  be  bad.  I  thought  some  one  would 
be  writin'  to  you!" 

"No,"  Langbrith  answered,  briefly. 

"  Miss  Hope  was  with  us,  too,  some  of  the  time, 
and  Mrs.  Enderby.  But  it  was  all  no  use,  as  far 
as  the  doctor  went.  He  didn't  know  one  from  an 
other,  after  the  first  day  or  two.  Mary  has  got 

337 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

ye  some  rice -cakes,  Mr.  James.  Won't  ye  have 
army?" 

Langbrith  was  pushing  back  his  chair.  "  No,  I 
don't  want  anything  more,  Norah.  I'll  be  back 
before  long;  tell  my  mother,  when  she  comes 
down." 

11  And  I  hope,  then,  she  won't  come  down  soon,  if 
she's  sleeping.  It's  more  than  she's  done  for  the 
last  week." 

He  went  away  with  the  trivial  sense  of  Norah's 
Yankee  correction  in  her  Irish  parlance,  which  he 
did  not  remember  to  have  noted  before,  and  he  had 
no  question  of  going  directly  to  find  Hope  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning. 

She  was  waiting  for  him,  even  then,  though  it 
could  not  be  said  that  she  was  expecting  him.  He 
had  figured  holding  himself  from  her  out  of  duty  to 
her,  but  they  were  in  each  other's  arms  before  he 
could  help  it.  In  that  mutual  transport,  and  while 
he  still  pressed  her  close  to  him,  she  divined  his  con 
straint,  and  asked,  vividly,  "  What  is  the  matter?" 

"I  want  to  tell  you,  but  I  don't  know  how,"  he 
began. 

"Well,  don't  mind  now,"  she  said,  with  the  first 
gleam  of  her  inextinguishable  gayety.  "Do  it  any 
how,"  she  added.  "There  isn't  anything  I  can't 
bear  now — now  you're  here." 

"Oh,  Hope,  dearest!" 

"Is  it  something  dreadful?  something  about  us?" 

"  It's  about  your  father  " — she  pulled  herself  away, 
he  felt  indignantly — "  and  mine.  I  should  think  I 
was  dreaming,  but  I  know  I'm  awake  for  the  first 

338 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

time  in  my  life.  Every  one  must  know  the  truth, 
but  I  must  begin  with  you." 

"What  do  you  mean,  James  Langbrith?"  she 
demanded,  severely.  And  he  found  the  strength  of 
despair. 

"  My  father  was  not  what  I  believed.  He  was  a 
man  that — that — wronged  every  one  he  had  to  do 
with.  He  wronged  your  father  so  cruelly  that  he 
drove  him  to  the  opium." 

' '  Y our  father  ?   Mine  ?    Why,  you  must  be  crazy !" 

"  If  you  say  that  you  will  make  me  so.  But  I  am 
perfectly  sane  at  last.  Uncle  John  told  me  about 
it  yesterday  coming  up  from  New  York,  and  I've 
come  the  first  thing  this  morning  to  tell  you.  I 
told  mother  last  night  that  I  was  coming  to  release 
you,  and  to  give  back  all  that  my  father  had  stolen 
—stolen ! — from  yours.  It  makes  me  feel  as  if  I  had 
stolen  you." 

"  Now,  James  Langbrith,"  she  broke  out  upon  him 
from  her  bewilderment,  "you  just  stop  being  silly, 
and  tell  me  exactly  what  you're  talking  about." 
She  took  his  hand,  and  pulled  it  vehemently  while 
she  fixed  him  with  her  eyes. 

He  began  again,  and  now  he  told  her  the  greater 
part  of  the  story  that  John  Langbrith  had  vindic 
tively  poured  out  upon  him.  He  could  not  bring 
himself  to  speak  of  his  father's  hidden  life;  the  in 
nocent  shame  that  was  between  them  forbade  that; 
but,  somehow,  he  possessed  her  of  all  else  that  he 
knew,  while  she  kept  clutching  his  hand  convul 
sively,  and  pulling  herself  to  him.  "This  has  been 
my  home-coming.  I — didn't  sleep  last  night,  and 

339 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

I'm  rather  broken  up,  or  else  I  could  have  prepared 
you—" 

"Oh,  you  poor  thing!"  She  put  forward  her  left 
hand  and  passed  it  over  his  reeking  forehead,  as  if 
he  were  her  child,  in  the  divine  mother-pity  which 
is  in  a  woman's  heart  even  for  her  husband  or  her 
lover.  "  You  are  the  injured  one,  kept  in  the  dark 
so,  all  your  life." 

He  tried  to  resist  her  compassion,  but  his  head 
fell  upon  her  breast.  "  It  had  to  be  so.  And  now," 
he  said,  "  the  most  I  can  do  is  to  make  restitution 
of  what  you  have  been  robbed  of,  and  give  you 
back  yourself." 

"Oh,  how  ridiculous!"  she  said,  with  a  bewitch 
ing  inadequacy,  while  she  smoothed  his  hair  with 
her  hand.  "Do  you  suppose  father  would  want 
you  to  do  that?  And  I  won't  have  myself  back,  as 
you  call  it !  What  would  I  do  with  myself,  if  I  had 
it?"  she  added.  "Now  you  be  still,  and  let  me 
talk  awhile.  I  don't  believe  it's  as  bad  as  your 
Uncle  John  says,  and,  if  it  is,  it  don't  make  any  dif 
ference  now.  It's  all  past  and  gone,  isn't  it?  I 
guess  father  got  the  fun  out  of  his  inventions,  even 
if  somebody  else  got  the  money.  He  was  so  happy 
this  last  year  that  it  would  have  made  up  for  any 
thing.  I  do  believe  that  he  couldn't  have  enjoyed 
it  so  much  if  it  hadn't  been  for  what  went  before. 
He  never  said  a  word  to  me  to  show  that  he  felt 
injured,  and  he  liked  you,  James;  he  was  proud  of 
you,  and  he  believed  in  what  you  were  trying  to  do, 
over  there,  even  when  I  couldn't,  always.  Father 
was  a  genius,  /  think.  Don't  you?" 

340 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

"Yes—" 

"  Well,  then,  he  had  his  good  time  as  it  went  along. 
He  took  it  with  him,  as  you  may  say.  Arid  as  far 
as  I'm  concerned,  and  that  restitution  of  me  that 
you  talk  about,  I  guess  we'll  just  have  me  in  the 
family." 

If  his  despair  had  been  what  he  thought  it,  he 
could  not  have  resisted  her  sweetness,  her  greatness ; 
he  could  not  have  denied  himself  the  pardon  and 
the  blessing  it  assured  him.  But  he  could  not 
speak,  and  a  little  hurt  at  his  silence  stole  into  her 
drolling  voice. 

"Still,  if  you  don't  want  me— " 

"  Oh,  my  dearest!"  he  cried  out.  "  What  are  you 
saying  ?';  and  once  more  they  took  each  other  into 
a  long  embrace  that  said  everything  which  they 
had  both  vainly  tried  to  put  into  words.  When 
they  were  so  far  parted  that  he  could  look  into  her 
eyes,  he  said,  "How  strange  you  are,  Hope!" 

"Am  I?  Well,  that's  what  Dr.  Anther  used  to 
insinuate,  so  it's  a  compliment  that  I'm  used  to. 
He  seemed  to  think  it  was  all  right,  even  if  you 
don't." 

"I?    Oh,  Hope!" 

"  Well,  some  people,  then.  If  they  were  in  your 
place,  they  would  say  that  it  was  very  queer  I 
shouldn't  act  more  as  if  I  felt  father's  going.  And 
we  haven't  spoken  of  it;  poor  father!  What  would 
you  say  if  I  said  sometimes  I  was  glad  of  it?  He 
was  well  when  he  went,  and  he  hadn't  touched  a 
drop  of  laudanum  for  months  and  months.  But  I 
never  felt  sure  about  it,  and  I  don't  believe  Dr. 

34i 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Anther  did,  and  when  I  think  how  he  used  to  suffer 
— well!"  She  was  one  of  the  women  who  rain  and 
shine  together,  and  now  the  tears  fell  over  her 
pathetic  smile. 

"I  know,"  he  gulped. 

"Sometime  I'll  tell  you  all  about  him,  but  not 
now.  And  I'll  tell  you  about  Dr.  Anther.  He 
was  the  best  man  that  ever  lived.  Are  you  glad 
that  you  went  home  that  night  and  took  it  back, 
with  your  mother?" 

"It's  what  gives  me  the  only  courage  I  have 
left." 

"  Well,  I'd  rather  hear  you  say  that  than  that  / 
gave  you  courage,"  she  said;  but  he  could  see  that 
she  was  a  little  jealous  of  the  help  of  even  a  good 
conscience,  and  he  answered,  "You're  my  Hope." 

She  laughed  into  a  sob,  and  then  laughed  out  of 
it.  "Then  you  must  be  equal  to  seeing  grand 
mother.  Come  in  and  speak  with  her." 

They  had  been  sitting  in  the  dim  little  parlor, 
and  now  Hope  led  him  into  the  dining-room,  where 
Mrs.  Southfield  was  grimly  chastizing  the  breakfast- 
table  for  the  disorder  in  which  Hope  had  left  it 
when  she  flew  to  let  Langbrith  in  at  the  front  door. 
She  paused  with  a  plate  in  her  hand,  and  transferred 
her  fierceness  to  Langbrith's  face.  "  Here's  James, 
grandmother,"  said  Hope,  recklessly;  "can't  you 
stop  and  shake  hands  with  him?" 

"I  don't  know,"  the  old  woman  said,  "as  I  want 
to  shake  hands  with  any  of  his  tribe." 

"Not  when  he's  going  to  be  one  of  our  tribe, 
grandmother?  That's  what  he  says  he  is?" 

342 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

"I  wouldn't  trust  anything  a  Langbrith  says," 
Mrs.  Southfield  returned,  with  impartiality. 

"Well,  then,  it's  what  I  say,  too.  Just  shake 
hands,  anyway,"  Hope  bade  her  cheerfully,  and, 
after  her  grandmother  had  wiped  her  hand  on  her 
apron  and  given  it  to  Langbrith,  the  girl  pursued, 
"  Well,  now,  that's  settled " ;  and  when  she  had 
drawn  him  out  of  the  room  again  by  the  hand  that 
was  still  finding  itself  in  his,  she  suddenly  asked 
him,  "Did  you  like  it?"  and  at  his  stare  she  added, 
"The  way  grandmother  welcomed  you?" 

"It  was  what  I  deserved,"  he  answered,  stonily. 

"  No,  it  wasn't,  but  it's  what  you'll  get  if  you  tell 
everybody  about  your  father.  Will  you  do  it? 
Can  you?" 

"I  will,  whether  I  can  or  not." 

"I  don't  like  that  hard  look  in  your  face,"  she 
said,  with  a  criticism  that  seemed  general  rather 
than  special;  then,  with  special  application,  she 
said,  "It  makes  me  afraid  of  you.  I  wonder  if 
you'll  be  stubborn." 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  be  firm  in  the  right?" 

"Yes,"  she  sighed,  "if  you  know  what  the  right 


is." 


He  looked  at  her,  perplexed.  "Have  you  told 
any  one  else? — or  no,  you  said  you  wanted  to  tell 
me  first.  Are  you  going  to  tell  other  people  right 
away?" 

"Can  it  be  known  too  soon?"  he  demanded, 
gloomily.  "  I  should  like  to  stand  by  Dr.  Anther's 
open  grave  and  proclaim  it,  and  take  my  father's 
shame  on  me  before  them  all." 

343 


THE   SON   OF    ROYAL   LANGBRITH 

She  only  said,  ''Oh!"  with  so  little  liking  for  the 
imaginary  spectacle  that  he  had  to  brace  himself 
for  the  effort  of  going  on. 

"That  tablet  must  come  down  out  of  the  library 
as  publicly  as  I  put  it  there.  I  must  tell  the  whole 
community  the  facts  of  my  father's  life,  so  far  as 
they  can  be  decently  known.  I  must  own  the 
wrongs  he  did,  and  ask  any  man  who  has  a  griev 
ance  against  him  to  come  forward  and  let  me  right 
him  so  far  as  I  can.'* 

"  It  sounds  like  a  play,  doesn't  it?"  she  said,  with 
a  smile  that  was  somehow  loving  as  well  as  mocking. 
"Anybody  can  see  that  you  will  know  how  to  write 
plays."  At  sight  of  the  dismay  in  his  face,  she 
turned  wholly  serious.  "James,  you  are  crazy! 
Don't  you  see  that  it  wouldn't  do?" 

"Why  not?"  he  faltered. 

"  Because  it  is  too  late!  You  would  just  disgrace 
yourself  and  not  help  anybody.  It  would  make  the 
greatest  scandal!  And  what  good  would  it  do?" 

"  That  is  not  the  question." 

"Yes  it  is,  James;  and  if  we  are  going  to  bear 
this  together — ' 

"What  have  you  to  do  with  it?" 

"Well,  if  I  don't  take  myself  back,  I  should  say  I 
had  full  as  much  to  do  with  it  as  you!" 

He  stood  daunted  by  what  had  not  occurred  to 
him  before,  and  he  could  not  answer  her  anything. 

"Now  do  you  understand?"  she  triumphed,  ten 
derly.  "  I  guess  if  it  was  my  father  that  suffered  the 
most  I  have  the  right  to  say  the  most;  and  I  don't 
believe  I  should  like  to  have  everybody  know  the 

344 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

kind  of  family  I  was  marrying  into.  Why,  if 
grandmother  treats  you  the  way  she  does  because 
she  felt  it  in  her  bones  about  your  father,  what 
would  she  do  when  all  the  neighbors  knew  it,  and 
it  got  into  the  papers  ?  Think  what  Jessamy  Cole- 
bridge  would  say;  and  Susie  Johns!" 

He  knew  that  she  was  entreating  him  lovingly 
as  well  as  mockingly,  and  though  it  was  sweet,  yet 
he  could  not  make  sure  of  the  reality  of  what  was 
so  opposite  to  the  picture  he  had  carried  night-long 
in  his  mind  of  her  instantly  agreeing  with  him,  and 
supporting  him  in  the  ordeal  he  proposed  to  him 
self,  in  the  event  of  her  refusing  his  renunciation. 
"I  don't  understand  you,  Hope,"  he  hesitated. 

"Yes,  you  do,  James  Langbrith!"  she  retorted. 
"  You  see  that  I've  got  just  as  much  to  do  with  this 
as  you  have.  Don't  you  suppose,"  she  softly  re 
proached  him,  "that  I  know  how  you  feel,  and  how 
proud  I  am  of  you  for  it  ?  But  I'm  not  sure  about 
it — I'm  not  sure  it's  right;  and  I'm  not  going  to 
let  you  do  it  on  your  own  responsibility,  if  I  have 
any  say  in  it.  And  I  have,  haven't  I?" 

"Why,  surely!  If  I  hadn't  been  so  blindly  self 
ish  I  should  have  seen  that  without  your  telling 
me." 

' '  I  will  settle  it  about  your  selfishness  some  other 
time.  It's  my  selfishness  now.  This  is  something 
we  can't  decide  between  us.  Do  you  know  what  I 
was  just  thinking?" 

"Yes,"  he  huskily  responded.  "That  we  could 
leave  it  to  Dr.  Anther." 

"Yes!"  she  said,  solemnly. 
345 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"I  am  glad  you  knew.     Who  else  is  there?" 

"My  mother—" 

"We  mustn't  put  anything  on  her.  But  she  had 
a  right  that  you  should  think  of  her.  Well?" 

"  Uncle  John  would  be  no  use." 

"No." 

"Judge  Garley?" 

"Of  course  you  don't  mean  it.  He  is  a  good 
man,  but  he  would  just  laugh  at  us.  Why  are  we 
beating  about  the  bush  so?  We  must  go  to  Dr. 
Enderby!" 

"Yes,  I  really  thought  of  him  next,  when  I  re 
membered  that  Dr.  Anther — " 

"I  knew  you  did.  Well,  we  ought  to  go  to  him 
at  once.  Don't  let  us  hesitate.  Wait  till  I  get  my 
hat." 

She  went  up  the  cramped  stairs,  apparently  into 
that  chamber  out  of  which  he  had  once  heard  the 
nightmare  groans  of  her  father  coming,  and  before 
she  returned  he  heard  her  open  some  door  down 
stairs,  and  call  cheerfully  through  it,  "Don't  you 
wash  the  dishes,  grandma.  I'll  be  back  soon,"  and 
she  joined  him  with  her  face  freshened  and  bright 
ened  by  the  bathing  away  of  her  tears. 

Her  quick  tilting  was  swifter  than  his  long  strid 
ing  as  they  descended  the  hill-side  path  towards  the 
rectory,  and  she  chanted  to  Mrs.  Enderby  among 
the  flowers  beyond  the  fence  with  a  gayety  that  she 
could  not  quite  keep  out  of  her  voice,  "  How  d'  ye  do, 
Mrs.  Enderby!  Is  Dr.  Enderby  at  home?" 


XXXVI 

THE  two  young  people  were  upon  Mrs.  Enderby 
before  she  could  drop  her  garden-shears  and  dis 
miss  from  her  consciousness  a  prescience  of  their 
coming  for  a  purpose  she  had  long  associated  with 
them  and  replace  it  with  a  decorous  sense  of  all 
there  was  in  the  circumstances  of  their  lives  to  ban 
ish  that  from  them  for  the  time.  She  was  smiling 
too  radiantly  upon  Langbrith,  she  felt,  even  when 
she  had  effected  the  substitution,  but  she  could  not 
help  it.  She  could  only  make  an  apposite  reflection 
on  the  strangeness  of  life  as  she  asked  him  about 
himself  and  about  his  mother,  and  dedicated  some 
just  observations  on  the  sad  home-coming  this  must 
be  for  him  in  the  losses  which  he  shared  with  them 
all.  Then  she  said,  "The  doctor  is  in  his  study. 
Won't  you  go  in?"  and  offered  to  remain  outside; 
but  Hope  said: 

"We  want  you,  too,  Mrs.  Enderby.  It's  some 
thing  that  we  want  you  both  to  talk  with  us  about ; 
don't  we,  James?"  she  ended,  with  a  deference  to 
him  which  seemed  to  Mrs.  Enderby  very  pretty. 

"He  is  trying  to  write  his  sermon — for  to-mor 
row,  you  know,"  she  explained  more  directly  tow 
ards  Hope;  but  it  was  now  Langbrith  who  an 
swered: 

347 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"If  it  is  the  funeral  sermon,  what  we  may  have 
to  say  will  be  fit,  perhaps." 

"Oh,  he  will  not  mind  being  interrupted  by  you, 
in  any  case,"  she  said,  with  her  mind  playing  me 
chanically  away  from  the  occasion  to  the  general 
duty  she  had  of  always  sequestering  the  rector 
when  he  was  writing. 

After  the  greeting  to  Hope  and  the  formalities 
with  himself,  Langbrith  took  the  word  with  a  dignity 
and  composure  that  Mrs.  Enderby  saw  kindle  the 
girl's  eyes  with  pride  in  him. 

"  I  was  saying  to  Mrs.  Enderby  that  I  hoped  our 
errand  wouldn't  be  out  of  keeping  with  the  subject 
of  your  sermon,  if  you  are  writing  about  Dr.  An 
ther.  He  knew  something  —  something  of  my  — 
family  history  which  never  came  to  me  till  yester 
day.  My  ignorance  of  it  was  the  means  of  a  cruel 
misconception  on  my  part  and  of  most  generous 
forbearance  on  his ;  and  it  is  a  question  now  of  what 
can  be  done  in  reparation  from  me — the  sort  and 
measure  of  it." 

Langbrith  paused,  and  the  rector  sat  kindly  in 
terpreting  the  young  man's  thoughts  by  the  light 
of  his  previous  knowledge.  But  it  was  not  for  him 
to  forestall  the  confidence  which  he  felt  was  about 
to  be  offered  to  him.  He  merely  said,  "I  could 
hardly  imagine  anything  you  could  tell  me  that 
would  heighten  my  sense  of  Dr.  Anther's  worth." 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  the  young  man  assented, 
with  a  humility  which  made  the  other  accuse  him 
self  of  having  not  been  quite  clear.  "  But  before  I 
speak  of  him,  I  ought  to  say  that  I  owe  you  some 

348 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

reparation.  When  I  asked  you  to  say  some  words 
at  the  dedication  of  the  tablet  to  my  father,  I  didn't 
know  that  my  father  —  that  my  father — "  He 
choked.  He  had  easily  told  Hope,  not  only  be 
cause,  as  she  had  made  him  realize,  it  was  as 
essentially  her  affair  as  his,  but  because,  also,  there 
was  something  in  the  confession  of  his  father's  in 
iquity  to  one  so  supremely  concerned  which  sup 
ported  him;  but  his  heart  sank  with  a  sense  of  the 
common  shame  awaiting  him  from  the  common 
knowledge,  as  it  intimated  itself  to  him  from  even 
such  pity  as  Dr.  Enderby's.  He  perceived  that 
it  was  not  the  victims  of  his  father's  misdeeds  that 
he  feared,  but  the  witnesses  of  these  whom  his  con 
fession  would  create.  Instinctively,  he  looked  tow 
ards  Hope  for  help,  but  she  dropped  her  face,  and 
at  the  pathos  of  this  Mrs.  Enderby  addressed  a 
murmur  of  appeal  to  her  husband. 

Probably  he  saw  no  reason  for  putting  Langbrith 
to  the  ordeal  he  shrank  from,  and  he  said:  "You 
needn't  go  on.  I  think  I  know  what  you  want  to 
say.  I  did  not  know  it  when  you  asked  me  to  speak 
those  words,  but  I  knew  it  before  I  spoke  them — 
from  Dr.  Anther." 

Langbrith  fetched  a  sigh  of  relief  that  was  almost 
a  groan.  "I  won't  say,"  the  rector  continued, 
"what  I  might  have  done  if  I  had  known  it  all 
when  you  asked  me,  for  I  am  no  longer  master  of 
such  a  situation,  and  I  can't  go  back  to  it  and  re 
create  it.  But  I  was  informed  in  time  to  refuse  a 
part  in  that  ceremony,  and  I  did  not,  for  reasons 
that  still  seem  to  me  good." 

349 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

Langbrith  passed  his  right  hand  over  his  fore 
head,  and  was  aware  of  having  Hope's  hand  in  his 
left  as  he  did  so.  "Would  you  mind,"  he  huskily 
asked,  "  telling  me  your  reasons?" 

"  They  were  not  very  profound.  They  related  less 
to  myself  than  to  the  effect  of  my  refusal  with  the 
public  —  of  the  ultimate  effect,  if  the  cause  of  my 
refusal  became,  we  will  say,  notorious.  I  had  not 
much  time  to  give  to  the  matter,  but  I  find  that  I 
don't  think  differently  now,  upon  further  reflection. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  no  good  and  much  harm  could 
come  of  revealing  the  past ;  that  so  far  as  your  father 
was  concerned  we  had  no  right  to  enter  into  judg 
ment,  and  that  so  far  as  God's  purposes  were  con 
cerned  we  had  no  right  to  act  upon  our  conception 
of  what  they  might  be  in  such  a  case.  Do  I  make 
myself  understood?" 

"Yes,"  Langbrith  whispered. 

"I  believe  that  I  said  to  Dr.  Anther — in  fact,  I 
am  sure  I  did — that  to  take  upon  ourselves  any 
agency  for  supposed  justice — for  the  discovery  and 
the  retribution  implied  by  the  concealment  and  the 
wrong  in  the  case,  would  be  in  a  manner  forcing 
God's  purposes ;  I  don't  like  the  phrase,  now,  but  it 
expressed  my  meaning.  May  I  ask  how  the  matter 
has  become  known  to  you?" 

"My  uncle  John  told  me  yesterday,  as  we  were 
coming  up  from  New  York.  We  have  had  a  differ 
ence  about  —  the  business,  and  I  am  afraid  I  —  I 
affronted  him;  and — and  he  told  me." 

"In  anger?" 

"Yes,  in  anger." 

350 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

The  rector  thought  how  it  was  written,  "Surely 
the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  Thee."  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  Divine  Providence  had  not  acted  in- 
k  opportunely;  and  he  was  contented  with  the  mode 
in  which  the  young  man  had  learned  the  worst;  it 
was  better  that  he  should  have  come  by  the  knowl- 
^  edge  of  it  so  than  by  any  deliberate  revelation,  with 
\  the  effect  of  such  authority  as  an  officious  interference 
)  could  have  arrogated  to  itself.  His  mother  could 
not  have  told  him,  and  she  could  not  suffer  Dr. 
Anther  to  tell  him;  but  his  father's  brother  might 
tell  him,  in  anger  and  in  hate,  even,  and  out  of  his 
evil  passions,  and  the  evil  passions  they  would 
arouse  in  the  young  man  evoke  the  best  result  pos 
sible  from  the  otherwise  hopeless  case. 

Langbrith  waited  for  him  to  speak ;  then  he  said : 
"  And  what  do  you  think  I  ought  to  do  now?" 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon.  What  had  you  thought 
of  doing?" 

" Of  making  it  all  known;  of  undoing  my  father's 
wrong  as  far  as  I  could,  and  of  revoking  my  own  acts 
in  perpetuating  his  good  name — the  good  name  he 
has  falsely  borne  in  this  community." 

"  That  is  natural — for  you,  and  you  will  let  me 
say  that  it  does  you  honor.  But —  What  do  you 
think,  Hope?" 

"  I  think  he  oughtn't  to  do  any  such  thing." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  don't  see  what  good  it  would  do, 
and  it  would  make  a  great  deal  of  misery  for  noth 
ing.  I  know  that  the  Bible  says  things  have  got 
to  come  out,  but  it  doesn't  say  that  they  need  come 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

out  here,  when  there's  nobody  left  to  suffer  for  them 
but  those  that  didn't  do  them." 

"  What  do  you  say,  my  dear?"  The  rector  turn 
ed  his  head  towards  Mrs.  Enderby. 

"I  say  what  Hope  does."  Mrs.  Enderby's  eyes 
shone  with  admiration  of  the  girl,  as  she  smiled  on 
her. 

"And  I  suppose  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  your 
mother's  wish?"  he  asked  Langbrith. 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  the  young  man  sadly,  "I 
hadn't  considered  her.  I'm  afraid  that  I  have 
never  considered  her." 

The  rector  sat  in  a  muse  which  he  was  some 
time  in  breaking.  "  If  it  is  something  that  you  feel 
is  for  the  good  of  your  own  soul,"  he  spoke  solemnly, 
"I  could  adjure  you  to  speak  out  and  make  con 
fession  of  your  father's  sins." 

"I  was  trying,"  said  Langbrith,  "not  to  think  of 
my  own  good."  He  looked  at  Hope,  as  if  there 
might  be  some  help  in  her,  but  she  would  not  meet 
his  glance. 

"Then,"  said  the  rector,  "though  I  know  that  it 
would  be  a  relief  to  you  to  have  all  this  known,  and 
to  take  upon  yourself  the  dishonor  which  the  stupid 
and  malignant  love  to  visit  upon  the  children  of 
wrong-doers,  I  think  you  must  not  seek  that  relief. 
I  would  impose  a  more  difficult,  a  heavier  penance. 
I  would  bid  you  keep  all  this  to  yourself,  as  your 
mother  has  kept  it  to  herself,  and  as  your  wife — 
Excuse  me,  I  didn't  realize— 

"Oh,  that  is  all  right,  Dr.  Enderby!"  Hope 
quaintly  condoned  his  break. 

352 


THE    SON   OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

" — and  as  your  wife,"  the  rector  resumed  with 
fresh  courage,  "  wishes  you  to  keep  it.  I  know  that 
from  my  talks  with  Dr.  Anther;  this  was  finally  his 
mind  in  regard  to  the  matter,  and  he  told  me  this 
was  finally,  or  indeed,  long  ago,  the  mind  of  Hope's 
father.  Yes,  you  must  keep  this  secret  locked  in 
your  own  heart,  until  such  time  as  the  Infinite 
Mercy,  which  is  the  Infinite  Justice,  shall  choose 
to  free  you  of  it.  You  will  know  the  will  of  God 
when,  if  ever  in  this  world,  there  is  some  event 
which  may  well  seem  a  chance,  leading  to  the  dis 
covery  of  what  you  have  kept  hid.  Then  you  must 
own  the  truth  promptly  and  fully.  I  believe  in 
your  good-will,  and  in  your  love  of  the  truth,  and  I 
know  that  God  will  give  you  strength  to  do  His 
purpose  when  He  bids  you.'1 


XXXVII 

AT  Anther's  grave,  Enderby  kept  himself  to  the 
ritual  of  his  church,  and  disappointed  many  who 
thought  he  would  make  some  remarks,  as  they 
phrased  it,  on  the  dead  man's  life,  more  final  than 
anything  he  had  said  in  his  sermon  the  day  before. 
There  was  some  disappointment  with  the  sermon 
itself,  which  the  rector  shared,  for  in  his  reluctance 
to  make  it  the  mere  personal  praise  of  his  friend,  he 
was  aware  of  having  kept  it  too  general.  He  would 
have  agreed,  if  he  could  from  his  own  knowledge, 
with  those  who  said  it  was  the  least  moving  of  the 
discourses  of  the  day  which  had  all  dealt  with 
Anther's  character  and  career.  At  the  Orthodox 
Church,  the  Catholic  Church,  the  Methodist  Church, 
and  the  Universalist  Church,  the  qualities  of  the 
man  who  had  now  become  a  memory  were  dealt  with 
directly,  and  his  example  interpreted  as  a  lesson  to 
those  who  heard.  But  Enderby  shrank  from  eulogy, 
and  while  he  knew  that  he  was  failing  the  expecta 
tions  of  his  hearers,  he  had  the  consolation,  such  as 
it  was,  of  knowing  that  he  was  dealing  with  Anther's 
memory  as  Anther  would  have  had  him  if  it  had 
been  his  to  choose.  Even  this  consolation  was  al 
loyed  by  the  consciousness  that  it  was  no  more  for 
Anther  to  choose  being  made  little  of  than  to  choose 

354 


THE   SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

being  made  much  of,  and  that  in  deferring  to  an 
imaginable  preference  of  the  man  he  was  possibly 
as  greatly  in  error  as  if  he  had  pronounced  the 
warmest  and  fullest  panegyric  of  his  virtues. 

He  could  only  say  to  himself  that  he  had  done 
what  he  could,  when  he  feared,  from  the  effect,  that 
he  had  not  done  enough.  He  was  curiously  dis 
abled  by  the  personal  considerations  of  the  case, 
not  only  as  concerned  Anther  himself,  but  as  con 
cerned  Langbrith  and  his  mother.  In  the  friend 
ship  beginning  tardily,  but  growing  rapidly  into 
something  vitally  strong  between  them,  Anther  had 
told  the  preacher  of  all  that  had  passed  with  either 
of  these  and  himself.  He  spoke  of  the  affair  as  if 
it  were  a  great  while  ago,  and  with  a  certain  aloof 
ness  in  which  he  judged  himself  as  impartially  as 
the  others.  From  being  the  man  in  later  middle 
life  who  had  wished  to  form  the  happiness  of  a 
woman  long  dear  to  him,  he  had  suddenly  lapsed 
into  an  elderly  man  to  whom  it  was  appreciable 
that  he  could  not  have  made  her  happy,  but  only 
more  miserable,  if  he  had  pressed  her  to  obey  the 
prompting  of  her  own  affection  for  him.  He  had 
come  to  see  that  in  a  case  where  nothing  was  wrong, 
where  everything  was  right,  there  were  yet  obstacles 
which  could  not  be  removed  without  a  violence 
leaving  a  bruise  destined  to  be  lastingly  sensitive. 
In  his  confidences  to  the  man  who  understood  him, 
he  not  only  excused  James  Langbrith' s  part  in  the 
matter,  as  something  natural  and  inevitable,  but  his 
tolerance  retroacted  towards  the  boy's  father,  and 
he  accounted  for  Royal  Langbrith  with  a  scientific 

355 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

largeness  in  which  Enderby  could  not  join  him. 
He  seemed  to  have  exhausted  the  hoarded  abhor 
rence  with  which  he  had  hitherto  visited  the  sinner's 
memory,  and  to  regard  his  evil  life  as  a  morbid  con 
dition  with  which  the  psychological  side  of  pathol 
ogy  had  to  do  rather  than  morals.  He  regarded  him, 
apparently,  with  no  more  resentment  than  some 
treacherous  and  cruel  beast  whose  propensities  imply 
its  prey,  and  which  has  satisfied  them  with  a  moral 
responsibility  difficult  or  impossible  for  our  ethics 
to  adjust.  In  these  speculations,  Royal  Langbrith 
seemed  for  him  a  part  of  the  vast  sum  of  evil,  not 
personally  detachable  and  punishable.  As  for  that 
publicity  which  his  revolted  instincts  had  long  de 
manded  for  Langbrith' s  sins,  he  divined  that  it 
would  have  been  the  wildest  and  wantonest  of 
errors.  He  alleged  the  attitude  of  Hawberk  tow 
ards  the  memory  of  his  pitiless  enemy.  Hawberk 
once  said  that  he  guessed  Royal  Langbrith  was 
built  that  way,  and  that  it  was  too  late  to  give  him 
a  realizing  sense  that  there  was  anything  out  of 
order  in  his  machinery.  Hawberk  said  he  had  no 
wish  to  make  anybody  else  suffer  for  what  Royal, 
as  he  called  him,  had  done.  He  doubted  whether, 
if  Royal  himself  were  on  hand,  he  should  want  to 
collect  anything  from  Royal  out  of  his  pocket  or 
out  of  his  hide.  He  guessed  his  claims  were  out 
lawed. 

Anther  himself  more  than  once  approved  the 
position  which  Enderby  had  taken  in  regard  to  the 
public  celebration  of  Langbrith's  public  munificence, 
but  in  this  he  did  not  allay  the  disquiet  of  the  rec- 

356 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

tor's  own  mind  concerning  it.  In  this  Enderby  in 
sisted  that  he  had  done  no  better  than  choose  the 
least  of  the  evils  presented,  and  that,  somehow, 
some  day,  it  behooved  him  to  own  the  compromise 
made  with  his  conscience.  He  did  not  see  the  way 
nor  the  hour,  but  he  hoped  that  he  was  holding  him 
self  in  readiness. 

Early  in  the  winter,  the  one  vindictive  foe  of 
Royal  Langbrith' s  memory  perished  in  Mrs.  South- 
field,  who  had,  indeed,  only  a  conjectured,  or,  as 
she  believed,  an  inspired  grievance.  Such  as  it  was, 
she  wished  to  visit  it  on  the  sinner's  son  rather  than 
the  sinner  himself.  Royal  Langbrith  had  neces 
sarily  lapsed  beyond  her  active  hostility,  and  she 
turned  this  upon  James  Langbrith,  whose  engage 
ment  to  Hope  she  never  ceased  to  oppose.  Hope 
herself  took  the  humorous  view  of  her  grandmother's 
opposition,  as  she  had  taken  the  humorous  view  of 
her  father's  long  tragedy,  not  because  it  was  not  real 
and  terrible,  but  because  temperamentally  she  had 
no  other  way  of  bearing  it,  because  in  that  way  she 
could  transmute  it  into  something  fantastic,  and 
smile  at  what  otherwise  must  have  broken  her 
heart.  She  did  not  try  to  reconcile  her  grand 
mother  to  what  her  grandmother  held  her  weak 
recreancy,  but  she  reconciled  herself  to  her  grand 
mother,  and  assented  and  coaxed  and  had  her  way, 
and  kept  Langbrith  from  offering  his  antagonist  a 
vain  and  exasperating  propitiation.  Mrs.  South- 
field's  antagonism  endured  to  the  end.  On  her 
death-bed  she  left  Hope  a  hoarsely  whispered  warn 
ing  against  the  Langbrith  tribe,  as  her  last  charge. 

357 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 


She  might  be  said  to  have  died  of  her  vivid  sense  of 
a  vague  and  unavenged  injury,  but  her  injury  died 
with  her,  and  with  her  died  the  sole  reason  against 
Hope's  marriage. 

There  were  people  who  contended  for  the  fact  of 
an  unbecoming  haste  in  her  marriage,  but  these  in 
their  censure  made  no  provision  for  the  life  of  the 
girl,  otherwise  left  absolutely  alone  in  the  world. 
Mrs.  Enderby  led  the  party  against  them,  and  with 
the  support  of  Mrs.  Garley,  and  their  respective  hus 
bands,  declared  that  Hope  should  not  observe  a  vain 
decorum  in  waiting  for  a  certain  period  of  mourning 
to  pass.  She  was  married  from  the  rectory,  which 
Mrs.  Enderby  had  made  her  make  her  home,  three 
months  after  her  father's  death,  and  something  less 
than  three  weeks  after  her  grandmother's,  and  she 
went  at  Christmas  to  live  with  her  husband  in  his 
father's  house.  Mrs.  Enderby  would  have  liked  to 
infer  a  mystical  significance  from  the  coincidence 
of  the  event  with  the  sacred  time,  when  peace  on 
earth  and  good-will  was  prophesied  in  every  sort. 
If  Dr.  Enderby  had  been  still  a  Unitarian,  she  would 
have  openly  done  so,  but  under  the  circumstances 
she  was  not  sure  how  far  she  might  loose  her  imagina 
tion  without  compromising  some  doctrinal  position 
of  his,  or  committing  him  to  what  he  might  have 
felt  a  sentimental  fancy.  She  confined  herself  to 
suggesting  the  notion  to  him,  and  contented  her 
self  with  his  assent  that  they  might  tacitly  draw 
what  comfort  they  could  from  the  notion. 

She  did  not  feel  it  right  to  share  it  with  Hope, 
but  she  permitted  herself  to  share  fully  with  the 

358 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

girl  the  promise  of  her  new  happiness.  There  was 
no  question  of  primacy,  in  the  house  where  Hope 
went  to  live,  between  the  elder  and  the  younger  Mrs. 
Langbrith.  People  are  modified  rather  than  es 
sentially  changed,  and  it  would  be  fatuous  to  pre 
tend  that  James  Langbrith  was  not  irked  in  his 
love  of  fitnesses  by  his  wife's  continuing  in  certain 
things  her  relation  of  guest  to  the  house  where  she 
was  really  mistress.  She  left  her  mother-in-law 
the  head  of  the  table,  and  the  poor  woman  whose 
life  had  always  been  in  such  an  abeyance  seemed 
to  satisfy  an  instinct  of  dominance,  never  gratified 
before,  in  this  shadowy  superiority.  The  two  work 
ed  equally  together  in  other  things  of  the  house, 
and  there  was  no  change  except  a  turning,  so  grad 
ual  as  to  be  almost  imperceptible,  of  the  old  Norah 
and  of  Mary,  the  cook,  to  the  younger  Mrs.  Lang 
brith  for  instructions. 

The  change  did  not  awaken  any  apparent  jeal 
ousy  in  the  passive  nature  of  the  elder  woman, 
whose  bearing  towards  her  son  betrayed  no  trace  of 
the  past  conflict  of  her  weak  will  with  his  strong 
will.  At  times,  when  he  feared  himself  to  have  been 
almost  obviously  impatient  with  her  illusory  head 
ship,  or  when  Hope  interpreted  his  restiveness  to 
him  in  that  sense  and  blamed  it,  he  sought  little 
occasions  of  reparation.  But  those  seemed  to  afflict 
her,  and  Hope  had  to  warn  him  against  being  ap 
parently  other  than  he  had  always  been  to  her.  He 
had  to  bear  with  that  as  he  had  to  bear  with  an 
other  trial,  which  wras  less  real.  He  had  imagined 
removing  his  father's  portrait  from  its  place  over 

359 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

the  library  mantel,  but  when  he  intimated  his  wish 
to  Hope  she  vehemently  forbade  it.  That,  she  said, 
was  no  more  to  be  thought  of,  without  the  leading 
that  Dr.  Enderby  had  insisted  upon  as  Langbrith' s 
rule  of  action,  than  the  removal  of  the  commemora 
tive  tablet  from  the  front  of  the  town  library.  They 
must  both  stay  till  the  providential  time  came. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  that  time  has  never  come. 
The  evil  life  of  Royal  Langbrith  remains  as  he  hid 
it,  except  for  the  few  contemporary  and  subsequent 
witnesses  of  it.  To  the  rest  of  the  community 
nothing  is  known ;  but  as  happens  with  men  some 
times  of  whom  nothing  is  known,  there  has  grown 
up  in  the  public  mind  a  certain  conjecture  of  dis 
credit.  This  may  have  sprung  from  chance  expres 
sions  of  Mrs.  Southfield,  in  her  theoretical  distrust 
of  the  whole  Langbrith  tribe ;  she  could  not  always 
be  silent  before  people ;  but  what  is  certain  is  that, 
from  the  moment  of  the  dedication  of  the  votive 
tablet  by  the  son,  the  myth  of  the  father  suffered 
a  kind  of  discoloration,  not  to  say  obscuration. 
Nobody  could  then  say  whether  he  was  really  the 
saint  and  sage  that  he  was  reputed,  and  of  what 
nobody  can  say  the  contrary  can  be  affirmed  with 
out  contention,  with  even  some  honor  to  the  shrewd 
conjecture  of  those  who  affirm  it. 

The  silence  of  Royal  Langbrith's  widow  continued 
as  unbroken  as  that  of  Anther  in  his  grave.  It  was 
so  inveterately  the  habit  of  her  life  that  she  never 
betrayed  herself  to  Hope,  and  what  passed  between 
her  and  her  son  is  as  if  it  had  never  passed.  The 
whole  incident  of  her  proposed  marriage  with  the 

360 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBR1TH 

man  who  was  so  truly  her  friend  is  without  trace 
in  her  actual  relation  to  her  son.  It  may  be  that 
the  forces  of  her  nature  exhausted  themselves  in 
the  struggle  to  accomplish  her  happiness,  or  it  may 
be  that  her  happiness  was  never  essentially  involved, 
and  that  she  submitted  to  her  fate  without  the  suf 
fering  which  Mrs.  Enderby  preferred  to  imagine  of 
her.  She  never  spoke  of  Anther,  and  whether  she 
ever  thought  of  him  in  the  tender  reverence  which 
was  his  due  Mrs.  Enderby  could  not  decide.  Some 
times  she  was  intolerably  vexed  with  Mrs.  Lang- 
brith,  sometimes  she  was  resigned  to  the  submission 
in  which  she  saw  the  life  of  Mrs.  Langbrith  passing. 
That,  when  she  came  to  think  of  it,  was  not  with 
out  its  dignity;  and  it  was  not  what  Anther  himself, 
she  realized,  would  have  had  changed  into  a  futile 
rebellion.  She  realized,  in  her  most  vehement  emo 
tion,  that  there  were  women  who  had  been  long 
happily  married,  and  who  when  widowed  lived  on 
in  the  same  silence  concerning  the  happiness  they 
had  lost  as  Mrs.  Langbrith  kept  concerning  the  hap 
piness  she  never  knew. 

Whether  she  duly  enjoyed  the  happiness  of  her 
son  in  his  wife  was  another  question  which  vexed 
the  kindly  witness;  but  she  saw  that  at  least  Mrs. 
Langbrith  lived  in  harmony  with  them,  and  that 
a  quiet  pervaded  the  whole  household  which  might 
very  well  pass  for  peace.  After  a  certain  period, 
which  John  Langbrith  himself  fixed  for  the  instruc 
tion  of  his  nephew  in  the  business  of  the  mills,  James 
Langbrith  took  charge  of  them,  and  released  his 
uncle  to  that  voyage  round  the  world  in  whose 

361 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

course  he  was  to  lose  his  dyspepsia,  perhaps,  with 
that  equatorial  day  which  lapses  from  the  circum 
navigator's  calendar.  He  lost  the  day,  if  not  the 
dyspepsia,  and  he  returned  with  strength  sufficiently 
renewed  to  bear  it,  which  is  probably  the  only  real 
form  of  cure  known  to  suffering.  He  then  offered 
to  let  his  nephew  go  back  to  Paris,  if  he  wished, 
and  resume  his  dramaturgical  studies.  There  had 
been  no  explicit  reconciliation  between  them,  but  a 
better  reciprocal  knowledge  had  done  the  effect  of 
this,  and  it  was  with  a  respect  for  his  nephew's  am 
bition  which  he  had  not  felt  before  that  John  Lang- 
brith  proposed  to  take  up  his  job  again  in  its  en 
tirety.  The  younger  man  did  not  respond  directly. 
He  asked  his  uncle,  who  had  stopped  in  Paris  on  his 
way  home,  how  Falk  seemed  to  be  getting  on,  and 
John  Langbrith  said  Falk  seemed  to  be  doing  well, 
and  was  at  any  rate  working  like  a  beaver;  he  had 
made  a  study  of  this  fact,  for  he  knew  that  James 
was  paying  his  friend's  way,  and  he  did  not  want 
him  to  waste  his  money.  He  was  not  a  judge  of 
painting,  but  he  was  a  judge  of  working,  and  Falk 
was  working. 

James  Langbrith  asked,  "  Did  you  have  any  talk 
with  him  about  rne?" 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  the  uncle  said,  more  promptly  than 
willingly. 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Well,  he  said  he  would  like  to  have  you  back, 
but—" 

"Well?" 

"  If  you  really  meant  business,  you  could  write 
362 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

plays  in  Saxmills  as  well  as  in  Paris.  You  could 
get  it  out  of  you,  anywhere,  if  you  had  it  in  you." 
James  Langbrith  did  not  ask  if  Falk  had  said  any 
thing  of  Susie  Johns ;  he  knew  from  Hope  that  their 
affair  had  been  one  of  those  without  seriousness  on 
either  side,  which  pass  with  our  young  people  in 
frequent  succession,  failing  to  eventuate  in  the 
matrimony  which  would  be  otherwise  universal 
among  us  — without  attaching  blame  to  either  side. 
There  was  something  else  that  interested  the  young 
man  infinitely  more  in  the  things  that  his  uncle 
volunteered  to  tell  him.  John  Langbrith,  with 
greater  reluctance  than  could  have  been  predicated 
of  him,  either  by  himself  or  others,  approached  a 
fact  which  he  said  James  ought  to  know,  and  when, 
without  further  preamble,  he  came  out  with  it,  his 
nephew  agreed  with  him.  One  day,  at  his  hotel  in 
Paris,  he  had  received  the  visit  of  a  lady  who  seemed 
at  first  disposed  to  make  a  mystery  of  herself.  She 
was  the  widow,  she  said,  of  a  gentleman  who  had 
so  far  deceived  her  in  marriage  as  not  to  have  left 
her,  at  his  death,  so  well  provided  for  as  she  had  ex 
pected,  and  she  bore  more  heavily  upon  his  want 
of  candor  in  this  respect  than  her  own  in  another, 
though  she  was  presently  obliged  to  be  entirely 
frank  with  John  Langbrith.  She  was,  it  then  ap 
peared,  the  mother  of  that  other  family  of  his  broth 
er,  who  had  provided  for  her  so  well  that  she  was 
able  to  figure  as  a  widow  in  easy  circumstances 
when  contracting  her  subsequent  marriage.  But 
her  money  had  gone  in  the  speculations  which  her 
husband  was  always  engaging  in  for  the  increase  of 

363 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

his  fortune,  and,  if  her  children  had  not  been  nearly 
all  provided  for  in  successful  marriages,  she  would 
not  have  known  what  to  do.  She  did  not  know 
what  to  do  now,  in  the  case  of  the  daughter  whom 
she  had  with  her  in  Paris  for  the  cultivation  of  her 
voice.  She  had,  as  she  said,  kept  track  of  Mr. 
Langbrith's  family,  and  she  had  heard  that  he  left 
a  son — by  another  marriage,  as  she  said;  for  in  the 
retrospect  she  preferred  to  treat  Royal  Langbrith's 
relation  to  her  as  bigamous — very  comfortably  off. 
Without  actually  putting  it,  she  left  with  John  Lang- 
brith  the  question  whether  this  son  might  not  like 
to  do  something  for  his  sister,  and,  without  actually 
putting  it,  John  Langbrith  now  left  the  question 
with  his  nephew. 

After  a  moment,  James  Langbrith  asked,  with  a 
sickened  face,  "Did  you  see  the  girl?" 

"Yes,  I  did." 

"  What  sort  of  a  girl  was  she  ?" 

"About  the  sort  her  mother  was,  I  guess,  at  her 
age.  Why  not?" 

"Did  you  hear  her  sing?" 

"She  can  sing  all  right,  I  guess.  Maybe  that'll 
keep  her  straight.  Any  rate,  it  don't  seem  to  mat 
ter  so  much  in  that  line  of  life." 

"Yes,"  James  Langbrith  assented,  from  the  dark, 
unwilling  knowledge  of  the  theatre  which  in  the 
way  of  his  ambition  had  revolted  more  than  it  had 
ever  interested  him.  He  added,  "I  will  speak  to 
Hope,"  and  John  Langbrith  being  apparently  as 
sick  of  the  subject  as  himself,  they  dropped  it. 

James  Langbrith  took  it  up  again  that  night  with 
364 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

his  wife,  recurring  to  the  general  fact  in  his  father's 
history  with  the  shrinking  which  he  did  not  under 
stand  her  not  understanding.  When  he  had  got  the 
fact  before  her,  ''What  ought  I  to  do?"  he  asked, 
with  a  frown  of  disgust,  as  at  some  loathsome  sight. 

"You  ought  to  tell  your  mother,  in  the  first 
place,"  Hope  said,  and  he  answered,  with  still 
stronger  repulsion: 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can." 

"No,"  she  assented.  "I  guess  I  shall  have  to  do 
it  for  you,"  and  Langbrith  perhaps  never  felt  so 
deeply  her  goodness  and  greatness  as  in  this.  With 
her  wifely  instinct,  and  the  motherly  instinct  which 
was  prophesying  in  her  heart,  she  made  known  the 
fact  to  that  virginal  nature  which  never  otherwise 
approached  it.  Mrs.  Langbrith  perhaps  never  fully 
realized  the  relation  that  established  itself  between 
her  son  and  his  father's  past  in  his  assumption  of 
his  father's  past  responsibility,  but  Langbrith  did 
so  to  the  last  fibre  of  his  being.  He  needlessly 
stipulated  with  those  people,  as  he  always  character 
ized  them  in  his  thought,  that  the  recognition  of  the 
tie  acknowledged  was  to  be  absolutely  tacit;  they 
had  really  no  more  wish  to  have  it  known  than  he ; 
but  at  the  bottom  of  Hope's  heart  there  was  what 
must  be  called  a  curiosity  concerning  her  half- 
sister-in-law  which  she  did  not  venture  to  own  till 
she  had  Langbrith  at  disadvantage  where  he  was 
helpless.  It  was  when  they  hung  together  one  night 
over  the  cradle  of  their  first-born,  and  felt  the  holi 
ness  of  her  innocence  purify  their  hearts,  that  she 
said,  dreamily,  "  If  she  were  the  child  of  people  who 

365 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

had  done  wrong,  I  suppose  she  would  be  just  as 
pure  and  sweet." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Hope?"  he  cried,  and  she 
told  him  how  she  often  thought  of  that  girl,  and 
how  she  longed  to  know  what  she  was  like,  or  what 
she  looked  like. 

"Hope,"  he  asked,  "have  you  ever  told  Mrs. 
Enderby?" 

"Indeed,  I  haven't!"  she  said,  and  then,  wound- 
edly,  she  asked,  "  Do  you  think  I  would  speak  of  it 
without  your  knowing?" 

"No,  and  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  will  ask  the  wom 
an  to  send  her  picture." 

But  when  the  picture  came,  with  the  girl  in  the 
pose  of  the  first  part  that  had  been  given  her  in 
comic  opera  at  Milan,  which  it  had  been  her  pride 
or  her  mother's  to  perpetuate  in  photography,  Hope 
first  gave  the  laugh  that  had  so  often  defended  her 
against  the  trials  of  life,  and  then  prepared  to  break 
the  blow  to  her  husband. 

He  only  glanced  at  the  picture  and  said,  without 
offering  to  take  it  from  her,  "We  must  keep  on 
with  the  allowance,"  as  if  it  had  been  in  his  mind 
instantly  to  withdraw  it.  He  never  asked  her  what 
she  did  with  the  picture,  but  when  she  had  put  it 
definitely  away  she  remained  with  a  longing  to 
laugh  herself  over  with  somebody,  in  view  of  this 
oversatiation  of  her  curiosity.  She  resisted  her 
impulse  to  such  a  confidence  with  Mrs.  Enderby 
not  only  because  she  was  bound  in  honor  against  it, 
but  because  she  did  not  believe  Mrs.  Enderby  could 
enter  perfectly  into  the  spirit  of  the  affair. 

366 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

The  wife  of  the  rector,  and  through  her  the  rector 
himself,  continued  in  that  patience  with  Providence 
which  those  more  intimately  concerned  were  obliged 
to  practise  in  a  situation  of  apparently  indefinite 
duration.  Enderby's  patience  was  more  tacit  than 
that  of  Mrs.  Enderby,  with  whom  it  often  took  the 
form  of  inquiry  whether  he  thought  there  would 
ever  be  any  revelation  of  the  secrets  of  Royal  Lang- 
brith's  life.  She  alleged  that  passage  of  scripture 
to  which  she  had  recurred  from  the  beginning  of  her 
own  privity.  "There  is  nothing  covered  that  shall 
not  be  revealed,  and  hid  that  shall  not  be  known," 
and  required  him  to  reconcile  it  with  the  case  in 
hand.  Though  she  had  agreed  with  Hope  about 
that  when  the  girl  first  offered  her  interpretation  of 
the  text,  she  had  since  had  her  recurrent  misgivings, 
and  she  wished  for  a  fuller  exegesis  from  her  hus 
band. 

Enderby  was  loath  to  put  his  wife  off  with  the  only 
answer  he  could  make,  and  to  say  that,  in  the  spirit 
ual  continuity  of  existence,  eternity  was  not  too  far 
a  term  for  the  judgment  of  offences.  He  did  not  suf 
fer  with  her  at  the  hold  which  a  bad  man's  life  had 
kept  after  his  death  on  those  who  survived  him,  and 
he  reasoned  in  vain  that  good,  evidently,  and  not 
evil,  had  come  to  others  from  leaving  his  life  where 
the  man  himself  had  left  it.  In  her  soul  she  would 
have  been  willing  the  justice  she  longed  for  should 
have  included  the  innocent  as  well  as  the  guilty, 
but  he  gave  her  pause  by  making  her  reflect  that  in 
this  instance  earthly  justice  would  include  the  in 
nocent  alone. 

367 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"Then  you  mean,"  she  persisted,  ''that  it  must 
all  go  over  to  the  day  of  judgment?" 

"You  know,"  he  returned,  "that  I  never  like  to 
say  those  positive  things.  But  if  we  suppose  that 
there  is  a  day  of  judgment  in  the  old  sense,  what 
else  could  it  be  for  except  for  those  sins  on  which 
justice  has  apparently  been  adjourned  from  the 
earthly  tribunals?" 

'There  is  something  in  that,"  she  was  forced  to 
own. 

"  Besides,  how  do  we  know  that  upon  this  partic 
ular  sinner  justice  has  not  already  been  done?" 

"Why,  what  ever  happened  to  him?" 
'The  fortitude  of  a  man  is  no  more  the  measure 
of  his  suffering  than  his  weakness  is.     The  strong 
suffer  as  much  as  the  weak — only,  they  do  not  show 
it." 

"Then  you  mean  that  Royal  Langbrith  suffered 
all  that  made  his  wife,  and  that  other  wretched 
woman,  and  Hope's  father,  and  Dr.  Anther,  and 
poor  James  Langbrith  suffer?" 

"  I  don't  say  that.  But  could  there  be  fearfuller 
suffering  than  his  consciousness  in  his  sudden  death 
that  he  could  not  undo  here  the  evil  he  had  done? 
Why  should  we  suppose  him  to  have  been  without 
that  anguish,  if  men  in  the  presence  of  mortal  peril 
are  tormented  with  the  instantaneous  vision  of  their 
whole  lives?" 

Mrs.  Enderby  was  silent,  and  measurably  ap 
peased.  But  then  the  rector  went  a  step  further, 
and  in  this  it  must  be  owned  she  could  never  follow 
him,  great  as  her  faith  in  him  was. 

368 


THE    SON    OF    ROYAL    LANGBRITH 

"  How  do  we  know  but  that  in  that  mystical  legis 
lation,  as  to  whose  application  to  our  conduct  we 
have  to  make  our  guesses  and  inferences,  there  may 
not  be  a  law  of  limitations  by  which  the  debts  over 
due  through  time  are  the  same  as  forgiven?  No  one 
was  the  poorer  through  their  non-payment  in  Royal 
Langbrith's  case;  in  every  high  sort  each  was  the 
richer.  It  may  be  the  complicity  of  all  mortal 
being  is  such  that  the  pain  he  inflicted  was  endured 
to  his  behoof,  and  that  it  has  helped  him  atone  for 
his  sins  as  an  acceptable  offering  in  the  sort  of  vi 
carious  atonement  which  has  always  been  in  the 
world." 

"  But  the  blight — the  misery  he  has  left  behind 
him?"  she  protested. 

"Why,"  the  rector  said,  "he  seems  to  have  left 
that  around  him  rather  than  behind  him.  He  made 
some  of  his  own  generation  miserable  —  Hawberk 
and  his  wife,  and  his  own  wife,  and  that  other 
woman,  and  Anther  for  them  and  with  them.  But 
Hope  and  James  Langbrith  are  not  unhappy.  They 
are  radiantly  happy,  and  more  wisely  happy  for  tast 
ing  the  sorrow  which  has  not  passed  down  to  their 
generation." 

"Then  you  don't  believe  that  the  children's  teeth 
are  set  on  edge  by  the  sour  grapes  their  fathers  have 
eaten?  What  does  the  scripture  say?" 

"  There  are  many  scriptures,  my  dear.  The  script 
ure  also  says  that  the  son  who  has  not  done  the  in 
iquities  of  the  father  shall  not  pay  their  penalty." 


THE    END 


14  DAY  USE 

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